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REV. J. E. ROCKWELL, D.D. 










NEW YORK: 
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS 

No. 580 BROADWAY. 
1860. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by 

ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Southern District of New York, 



EDWARD O. JENKINS, 

Printer # &tcrfotgper, 
No. 26 Frankfort Strket. 



^s 



TO MY WIFE, 

WHOSE SOCIETY WAS THE CHAEM WHICH MADE THESE SCENES- 
DELIGHTFUL AND MEMORABLE; 

TO MY PARENTS, 

WHOSE IN8TKUCTIONS AND COUNSELS HAVE EVER BEEN 
WISE, FAITHFUL AND SAFE; 

TO THE CENTRAL PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH OF BROOKLYN, 

WHOSE SYMPATHY AND EARNEST CO-OPERATION HAVE MADE 
MY WORK AS A PASTOR PLEASANT; 

THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED WITH EVERY FEELING OF 
RESPECT AND AFFECTION BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE, 



The substance of these Scenes and Impres- 
sions Abroad was presented in the form of a 
Series of Lectures, before the congregation to 
which it is my pleasure to minister, without a 
thought of giving to them any farther pub- 
licity. Unexpectedly they enlisted such atten- 
tion and apparent interest, as that it became 
necessary to adjourn from my Lecture Koom, 
where they were commenced, to the main 
Auditory of the Church, which place was filled 
every Wednesday evening for three months. 
Most of the Lectures were very fully reported 
in the columns of the Transcript, of this city, 
with kind and courteous notices of the course. 
At the request of many who heard them, or 
who had read the reports of them, and in 



Vlll PREFACE. 

whose judgment I have confidence, they have 
been revised and published in the form in 
which they now appear. 

I have attempted nothing in these Lectures 
but a familiar and faithful description of a few 
of the more important features of the usual 
route of European tourists, presuming that a 
minute detail of some of the principal and most 
interesting sights, which might be taken as a 
sample of the whole, would be preferable to a 
more general and hence less definite description 
of all. 

The reader will find here only the familiar 
utterances of one, who having returned from a 
pleasant journey, wishes to share, as far as 
possible, with his friends whom he left behind 
him, the pleasures which he has enjoyed. This 
rich field has been so often reaped, that the 
author can only hope to bring in a few glean- 
ings. If here and there is found a sheaf or a 
flower that may be profitable or pleasant, his 
highest wishes will be met and satisfied. 

Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb., 1860. 



CONTENTS. 



L — OUTWARD BOUND. 

A Sabbath at Sea — Icebergs — Sea Life — An Irish Pilot — 
Dieppe — Rouen — Church of St, Ouen — Notre Dame, page 27 

IL — PARIS. ^/' 

Philosophy — Historical — The Seine — The Tuileries — Obe- 
lisk of Luxor — Parisian Life — Bois De Boulogne — Bastile — 
St. Roch — The Madeline, . , . . . . 50 

III. — CHURCHES AND PALACES OF PARIS. 

Notre Dame — Imperial Cortege — St. Germain L'Auxerrois 
— St Bartholomew^ Eve — Sainte Chapelle — Versailles — Re- 
collections—Galleries—A Sad Truth— Petite Trianon, 72 

IV. — PARIS TO LYONS. 

The Louvre — Hotel De Cluny — Fontainbleau — The Ameri- 
can Consul at Lyons — Church of St. Ireneus — St. Jean — 
Silk Manufactories — Protestantism — Religious Liberty, . 87 



X CONTENTS. 

V. — LYONS TO NAPLES. 

Montalimar — Nismes and Aries — Bay of Naples — Getting 
Ashore — A Pleasant Eide — Pompeii — Amphitheatre — Tragic 
Theatre — Diomed — The Overthrow — Contrasts, . . 110 

VI. — ROME. 

Civita Veechia — A Panorama — The Pope-Relics — The Cap- 
itol -- The Bambino — Villa Albano, .... 135 

VII. — ROME AND ITS CHURCHES. 

"The Church at Rome" — Popery — Sights of Rome — St. 
Peter's — Statistical — Grandeur — Decorations — The Vatican — 
Illumination of St. Peters — Babylon, .... 157 

VIII. — ROME TO FLORENCE. ^/' 

Leaving Rome — A Night Passage — Leghorn — San Lorenzo 
— Medicean Chapel — Galileo — Miseracordia. . . 182 

IX. — FLORENCE TO TURIN. 

Beautiful Italy — The Papal Church — Genoa — Sardinia — 
Turin — Pignerol — La Tour — The Vaudois — Church of Co- 
pies — Waldensian Worship — Historical, . . . 208 

X— THE ALPS. 

Susa — Diligence Riding — An Alpine Pass — Lanslebourg — 
Geneva — Chillon — Cretins — Alpine Scenery — Sunrise at Cha- 
mouni — Mer De Glace — Crossing a Glacier — Forclaz — The 
Col De Balme — Interlaken, 235 



CONTENTS. XI 

XL — THE RHINE. 

Jungfrau — Staubbach — Berne — The Rigi — Lake Luzerne — 
Basle — Baden Baden — Conversation haus — Gambling — Basle 
Mayence — Rhine Boats — The Mouse Tower — Ehrenbreitstein — 
Cologne — Amsterdam — Rotterdam — Antwerp — Brussels — 
Waterloo, 267 

XII. — ENGLAND. 

- 
Dover — An English Inn — London — Westminster Abbey — 

Houses~bf Parliament — The Temple — Business Haunts — The 

Tower — Zoological Gardens — Sydenham — British Museum — 

Hampton Court — Windsor Castle — Oxford — Stratford on Avon 

Keniiworth, ..'."-*..,. 295 

XIII. — SCOTLAND, IRELAND, HOME. 

Scottish Scenery — Melrose Abbey — Edinburgh — Holyrood — 
John Knox — St. Giles' Church — The Castle — Arthur's Seat — 
The Sabl&ath — Sterling Castle — The Trossachs — Loch Lomond 
— Glasgow — Dumfries — A Scotch Welcome — Liverpool -- 
Dublin — Cork — Queenstown — An Irish Jaunting Car — Home- 
ward Bound — A Storm at Sea — A Night in a Gale — Sea 
Amusements — Home Again, 340 



SCENES AND IMPRESSIONS 
ABROAD. 



OUTWARD BOUND. 

IT is my purpose, as far as possible, to re- 
produce the scenes through which it has 
been rny pleasure to pass during my absence 
from home in search of health — for the entire 
restoration of which I desire here to render my 
thanks to that God who has watched over us 
while we have been absent one from another. 
It is my sincere wish that you may enjoy with 
me, the journey which I have accomplished; 
and to this end I propose, in a series of familiar 
lectures, to bring before you, as distinctly as I 
may be able, the lands which I have visited and 
2 



10 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the impressions I have received. When I found 
my health rapidly giving way, after eighteen 
years of ministerial labor, one half of which 
has been devoted to this church, you kindly 
and cheerfully assented to my request for leave 
of absence; and on the 7th of May, in com- 
pany with my wife and a mutual friend, we 
left in the steamer City of Washington, Captain 
Petrie, for Liverpool. A crowd of friends were 
present to bid us farewell, and, as the noble 
vessel sv/ung away from her moorings,"waved us 
their kind adieus. The ship's cannon thundered 
forth their rough salute, which was answered 
by echoes from the shore. We felt that we 
were afloat, and every moment separating more 
and more widely from all we loved and held 
dear. At Sandy Hook we parted with our 
pilot, by whom we sent messages home, and 
were soon rocking upon the restless waves of 
the open sea. 

Sabbath, May 8. — Eose early to breathe the 
fresh and invigorating air of the morning. One 
must be hopelessly an invalid who could not 
drink in health with this fresh and bracing 



A SABBATH AT SEA. 11 

breeze that is bearing us onward thus rapidly 
along the great highway of the ocean. At half 
past ten the bell tolled for the regular Sabbath 
service. The passengers were gathered upon 
the quarter-deck, occupying seats which had 
been prepared for them, while the crew, in their 
neat blue jackets, filled the boats that were 
swung upon either side. A capstan, neatly 
draped with flags, served for a pulpit, which, at 
the request of Captain Petrie, I occupied. 

In accordance with the regulations of the New 
York, Philadelphia and Liverpool Steamship 
Company, I read the Service of the Church of 
England, adding, in the prayer for the Queen, 
the name of the President of the United States. 
The subject of my discourse was, " The Chris- 
tian Hope, the Anchor to the Soul." Drawing 
my illustrations as much as possible from the 
sea, I endeavored, I think with some success, to 
enlist the attention and interest of the sailors. 
It was a novel and pleasant scene, that hour of 
worship in the open air, upon the deck of a 
vessel that was plowing its way through the 
ocean. And it was a delightful thought, that 



12 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the same God who was listening to the worship 
of loved ones at home, and of tens of thousands 
who were gathered in solemn temples to praise 
His name, was also upon the sea, ready and will- 
ing to hear the prayers of His people, and to 
accept the tribute of their thanks. 

At 12 o'clock our position was found to be 
lat. 40° 21', long. 68° 31'; distance run 255 
miles. Monday, 9th, lat. 41° 46', long. 62° 50'; 
distance run, 271 miles. The weather is hazy, 
but clear enough to give us our first view of a 
whale, whose presence is indicated by the water 
which he occasionally throws up in a jet, and 
which descends in a shower of spray. 

Tuesday, 10th.— Lat. 43° 21', long. 58° 21' ; 
distance run, 230 miles. Passed a vessel home- 
ward bound, and as we thought of the fair land 
that would soon open upon her crew, we could 
not but repeat the words we had so often heard 
amid the songs of youth : 

' ' While the waves are round me breaking 
As I pace the deck alone, 
And my eye in vain is seeking 
Some green leaf to rest upon ; 



ICEBERGS. 13 

What would I not give to wander 

Where my loved companions dwell 1 
Absence makes the heart grow fonder: 

Isle of beauty, fare thee well." 

Wednesday, 11th.— Lat. 46° 17', long. 53° 55' ; 
distance run, 237 miles. To-day we obtained 
our first view of those wonderful gifts of the 
Polar regions, "icebergs." The sea was as 
calm as a lake, and the sky clear and cloudless. 
Far in the distance was seen a bright and glit- 
tering object, which, as we neared it, proved to 
be one of those unwelcome visitants of the 
American waters, which, being formed far up 
amid the sea of ice which surrounds the Polar 
circle, are broken off in vast masses from their 
native glaciers, and, by the action of the winds 
and the waves, floated down towards the warmer 
regions of the south, when, after too often put- 
ting in jeopardy the life of the sailor, they are 
gradually dissolved and disappear. As they 
melt away, they assume an almost endless va- 
riety of shapes, and, when seen at a distance, 
might be taken for castles, and ships, and 
churches, or cottages. Some of them are of great 



14 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

extent, and are exceedingly dangerous neigh- 
bors, when, as was the case with us, they appear 
during a fog. The cry, " Hard a' port," early 
one morning, "brought those of us who were 
up to the deck, just in time to see one of them 
float by us, near enough to have leaped upon 
it. 

In the course of the day fourteen icebergs 
were in sight, one of them being of immense 
extent. Towards evening we passed Cape Race, 
and signalized the station, in the hope that our 
passage thus far might be communicated to our 
friends at home. Just at sunset we caught 
sight of the harbor of St. John's, ten miles dis- 
tant, the last land we shall see until we sight 
the shores of Ireland. 

Thursday, 12*A.— Lat. 49° 14', long. 49° 9' ; 
distance run, 254 miles. As there is nothing of 
especial interest, except looking out upon a 
boundless ocean, we may as well take a general 
view of sea life. Our company is large and 
pleasant, consisting of over 100 cabin and 200 
steerage passengers, with a captain who knows 
how to sail a ship and to make his passengers 



SEA LIFE. 15 

comfortable and happy. "When off duty he 
has a kind word for all. His officers are quiet 
and gentlemanly, and his crew orderly and well- 
behaved. The chief amusement on ship-board 
is eating and drinking. Breakfast at 9, lunch 
at 12, dinner at 4, tea at 7, and supper at 10. 
The hours are divided into watches, indicated 
by bells every half hour. The first watch be- 
ginning at 4 and ending at 8 ; the second from 
8 to 12; the third from 12 to 4; and the dog 
watch from 4 to 6 and from 6 to 8. At eight 
bells, which indicates the commencement of a 
new watch, the officers and hands on duty re- 
tire, and the boatswain's whistle calls the sleep- 
ers to their posts ; the boatswain, in this case, 
being of the most conventional order, a fat and 
jolly old sea-dog, who rolls over the deck, and 
sports his silver whistle with the most evident 
pride and satisfaction, and gives to its notes a 
flourish which only an old salt can appreciate. 
At 9 o'clock observations are made for latitude, 
and at 12 the longitude is taken, after which 
the result is posted upon the bulletin, and day 
by day we are thus able to map down our place 



16 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

upon the ocean. There is a good library on 
board, which serves to while away our leisure 
hours. 

Friday, 13*A.— Lat. 51° 11', long. 42° 45'. 
Distance, 275 miles. Wind "W. N. W., increas- 
ing, and the ship rolling heavily. Found it 
necessary to use guards at table. 

Saturday, 11th.— Lat. 51° 12', long. 35° 25'. 
Distance, 277 miles. Lightning and cloudy, 
with fresh breeze. 

Sunday, 15th.— Lat. 51° 11, long. 27° 40'. 
Distance, 295 miles. Preached from the text, 
" How shall we escape if we neglect so great 
salvation V 

We held also a service in the steerage amid a 
large and attentive audience. 

It was pleasant to meet there a Christian 
friend who had provided himself with a bundle 
of tracts, published by the Presbyterian Board, 
and to see here and there persons engaged with 
evident interest and seriousness in reading these 
little messengers of mercy. 

Monday, 16th.— Lat. 51° 14', long. 18° 58'. 
Distance, 293 miles. 



AN IRISH PILOT. 17 

Tuesday, 17th.— Lat. 51° 53, long. 12° 47'. 
Distance, 272 miles. Obtained our first sight of 
the Irish coast at 6 P. M. The long twilights 
are a marked feature of our high Northern lati- 
tude. At 9 o'clock in the evening there was 
still sufficient of daylight to enable me to make 
an entry in my note-book, which was written off 
the Skellig Rocks, making for Cape Clear 50 
miles distant. 

Wednesday, May ISth. — At 5 o'clock A. M. 
took on board an Irish pilot off the Old Head 
of Kinsail. He was a rare specimen, — coming 
on board in a dress which might have been new 
once, but at a very distant period. As we were 
anxious to hear the news from Europe, we asked 
if he had any papers. He said, " Yes, but they 
were a week old, and had gone ashore in the 
boat." We asked if he had any news of the 
War. He said " he believed war or peace had 
been declared, but he could not tell which." 
The Irish coast is one of exceeding beauty, ba- 
saltic in formation, and presenting to the eye a 
pleasing variety of bold head-lands, green fields 
and castled hills. At Queenstown harbor we 
2* 



18 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

got from the steamer which took off passen- 
gers for Cork, the first news of the war. 

Thursday, 19 th. — Sailed up the channel and 
the Mersey, and arrived at Liverpool at 12 
o'clock, just five hours less than 12 days from 
New York. 

Passing rapidly on towards Paris, we stopped 
a day in London, intending to take England in 
our route home. Taking the train of the South 
Western Railway, we reached New Haven in a 
few hours, and after 6 hours' sail in a pretty little 
channel-steamer, we landed at Dieppe, and were 
taken in charge by two gensdarmes, who con- 
ducted us to the Bureau du Paquebot, where 
our passports were vise, and we received per- 
mission to land and to proceed on our journey 
to Paris, and through France. 

Dieppe is an ancient Norman city of 20,000 
souls, inhabited by rough, independent and hardy 
fishermen, who find the shores of France, and their 
neighborhood, well fitted for their peculiar busi- 
ness. In summer it is also a favorite watering- 
place of the French, and splendid hotels have 
sprung up which give to the town an appearance 



DIEPPE. 19 

of growth, life, and activity, quite American. 
The approach to Dieppe is exceedingly pictur- 
esque. The shore for many miles is lined with 
white cliffs, often rising to a great height. Just 
here these high walls have been sundered and a 
fine harbor is formed, in which a large fleet may 
find safety. 

The city has a quaint and odd look to an 
American. It has an ancient cathedral, built in 
the old Norman style, and which was preserved 
from conflagration during the English invasions 
by setting fire to some straw upon its roof, giv- 
ing the English troops the idea that its destruc- 
tion was accomplished, and turning their fire to 
another quarter. Upon the sea-shore, looking 
down a beautiful and bold coast, are large ho- 
tels, arranged in the taste so natural to the 
French, and with all the appliances for fashion- 
able amusement and dissipation. The port is 
spacious, and has a fine castle and citadel. 

We take a stroll along the shore, and are 
amused with the dress of the fishermen and 
women, who preserve to a great extent the old 
Norman fashions, and whose whole appearance 



20 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

is to an American, an entire novelty, and makes 
him feel that he is in a strange land. 

Leaving Dieppe in the afternoon we pass on 
towards Rouen, by; railway, through a beauti- 
ful country, well cultivated, and covered with 
flower-gardens ; and reach that ancient city just 
as the night has closed upon us. We had been 
directed to a hotel where English was spoken, 
and found ourselves in a quiet and cozy old 
French inn, where our only interpreter soon left 
us to the care of the hostess, who, though very 
pretty and agreeable, was unable to speak a word 
of English. Of course all our knowledge of 
French had to be summoned to our aid. Rooms 
were to be provided, tea to be had, bills to be 
made out, servants to be summoned, and the 
waiters to be talked to in French. 

There is nothing like being cornered, to bring 
out one's resources ; and we found our old hours 
with Ollendorff and others, returning to us most 
advantageously. Our first attempt at French 
was so far successful that we found ourselves in 
possession of all the comforts the inn could 
afford. 



ROUEN. 21 

Rouen, the ancient capital of Normandy, has 
now about 90,000 population. It lies upon the 
Seine, which is here navigable to steamers and 
small ships. 

Ptolemy, in the second century, mentions this 
city. When Rome had subjugated France, it 
became a military post of considerable impor- 
tance. The Frank succeeded the Romans in its 
possession; then the Nonnan pirates took it 
in 841, and have left the characteristics of their 
nation all over the city. Rouen suffered re- 
peated sieges, and at length fell to France, to 
whom it now belongs. During the Reforma- 
tion, that work found many friends here; and 
in the massacre of St. Bartholomew, 500 of its 
families perished under the cruel mandate of 
the Popish authorities. At the time of the 
Revolution it again became the scene of terrible 
butchery, when 1,200 persons perished by the 
guillotine. Rouen, although a large and im- 
portant city, has, from the great age of its 
buildings, an appearance of dilapidation which 
really belies its actual condition. It is an im- 
portant manufacturing town, lying upon the 



22 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

direct route from Paris to Havre and Dieppe. 
But its streets are narrow and compact. A fine 
boulevard passes four miles around the site of 
its old wall, filled with beautiful trees, which 
somewhat relieve its antique grandeur with 
what is new and cheerful. But everything 
about tells the story of its age. Its houses are 
quaint and rickety, with curious ornamental 
carvings, and images of saints, and martyrs, and 
Virgin Marys. At every turn some relic of 
antiquity meets you. Here is a mutilated statue 
of a saint, and there a Grothic fountain. Gro- 
tesque heads grin at you from many a door-post 
and window-frame. Fanciful flowers, the like 
of which were never seen, are carved in queer 
and stiff festoons around many a decaying man- 
sion. Hobgoblins and apostles, wolves' heads 
and headless martyrs, serpents and wily priests, 
in stiff and stately stone, look out upon you 
from many a crumbling buttress and moulder- 
ing tower. In the market-place, surrounded by 
strange-looking buildings, stands the statue of 
Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, who, for 
her wonderful control over the army of her 



CHURCH OP ST. OUEN. 23 

native land, was burned as a witch, by the 
English, in 1431, upon the spot where her 
statue now stands. 

But the great features of the city of Rouen 
are its two splendid churches, which present to 
us some of the finest specimens of Gothic archi- 
tecture to be found in Europe. * We visit first 
the church of St. Ouen, founded in the year 
533. In 844, it was burned during the Norman 
invasion. In the year 1303, the first stone of 
the present structure was laid. As you ap- 
proach it you notice the elaborate carvings upon 
the casements of the doors, representing, in bas- 
relief, scripture scenes and history. Over the 
windows, and upon the pillars, and under the 
eaves, start out those strange and grotesque 
figures which form a part of the ancient Gothic 
style. On entering, you are struck with awe 
and wonder. Before you lies a vast pile, 450 
feet long by 100 feet high, and about the same 
in width. The ceiling, sustained by huge clus- 
tered columns, rises from the stone floor, on 
which appears no pew or seat to break in upon 
the perfect proportions of the interior. Eleven 



24 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

chapels surround the choir, in all of which ser- 
vice is held at different times ; and while in one 
part of the edifice a congregation is listening to 
preaching, in adjoining chapels mass and other 
services are performed, with no danger of inter- 
fering, the one with the other. 

The church is lighted by 125 immense win- 
dows of stained glass; and when we pass into 
the last chancel, and look up to the vast ceiling, 
rising to the height of 100 feet, and through 
the arches, columns, statues, paintings and win- 
dows, that make up this splendid pile, the effect 
is overwhelming. 

Passing out and paying a franc to the sexton, 
and followed by one of the swarms of guides 
that offer to show us the city, we visit the cathe- 
dral of Notre Dame, where new wonders await 
us. There was a chapel here in the ninth cen- 
tury, a part of which still remains. In the year 
841 it was pillaged, but not destroyed ; enlarged 
in the tenth century; and in 1117 struck by 
lightning, and burned in 1200. 

The present cathedral is the work of three 
separate ages, each style being distinctly de- 



NOTRE DAME. 25 

fined. Its length is 418 feet, its greatest breadth 
100 feet, and the height of the nave 96 feet. It 
has three principal towers. The tower of St. 
Roman is the oldest, — 230 feet high. Next 
conies the " Tour de Beurre," or Butter Tower, 
230 feet high, built by the granting of indul- 
gences to eat butter in Lent. The third tower, 
which is to be 436 feet high, is built of iron, 
and will soon be finished. The walls and doors 
and windows are ornamented with the most 
grotesque and elaborate carvings of saints and 
scripture scenes. As we enter, we are again 
astonished with the vision of majestic beauty 
and grandeur that meets our eye. Wherever 
we turn we behold something to elicit our ad- 
miration, or to fill us with wonder. The light 
streams down through the stained Gothic win- 
dows upon twenty-five chapels which sur- 
round the choir, and which are filled with 
splendid paintings, with fine statuary, and with 
the monumental relics of past ages. Here we 
meet with the first specimens of painted bronze, 
dating back to the year 994. Here, in stiff 
and stately grandeur, lie the mighty dead. 



26 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Here, Richard " Cceur de Lion" has his tomb ; 
and William "the Long Sword," and Rollo, 
first Duke of Normandy ; and many a noble 
name is recalled as we pass the sepulchres that 
are placed around, the building, in almost every 
chapel. 

Such was the effect of this first sight of truly 
Gothic grandeur, that even now, after having 
looked over the most famous churches of Europe, 
1 still find myself recalling this vast and splen- 
did edifice as one of the wonders of France. 

One is lost in feelings of aw^e, as he stands 
and looks over this magnificent Gothic pile, and 
hears the solemn music of the organ and the 
chant of the robed priests ; while the cries and 
noises of the city without, — the rumbling of 
wheels, and the hurry of active life, — present, in 
strange contrast, the world and the church — the 
worship of Mammon and of God. 

As a picturesque city, Rouen is one of the 
most remarkable in France: — full of strange 
contrasts; odd and antique costumes of past 
centuries perpetuated from age to age ; fine 
modern mansions and quaint old tumble-down 



A QUAINT CITY. 27 

houses, scarcely fit for cattle ; splendid relics of 
old churches used now as rag-shops, or ware- 
houses, or for whatever they can be rented, 
closed for religious purposes since the Revolu- 
tion ; and of the few which remain, many a sad 
mark of the spoiler's hand being left by the 
Protestants, in their zeal, at the Reformation. 
In short, no one should go to Paris without 
spending a day or two at Rouen. 

Leaving it in the afternoon, a ride of four 
hours brings us to the wall of Paris, 85 miles 
distant. And now evening is coming on, we 
have only time to get comfortably settled at our 
hotel a de Lille et d'Albion," where we will 
meet you next week for a sight of Paris. 



II. 

PARIS. 

IT was on a bright and beautiful afternoon in 
May, when the shrill whistle of the loco- 
motive announced our approach to the city of 
Paris. In a few moments we had passed through 
its walls and were at the railroad station, under- 
going the usual examination of baggage, to dis- 
cover if any contraband articles were about to 
be smuggled into the city. This, with the con- 
stant inspection of the passport, is a nuisance 
which the American notices first and most fre- 
quently in Europe, and to which it is almost 
impossible to become accustomed. But the trav- 
eller should take the annoyance good-natured- 
ly, remembering that it is not the fault of the 



PHILOSOPHY. 29 

custom-house officers, who but do their duty, 
and usually do it as gentlemen. His best way 
is to treat them politely — have his keys and 
passport always ready — and he will escape with 
comparatively little trouble. Let him avoid all 
irritation or anxiety, and he will find the exami- 
nation will be but a mere form. A hand will 
be thrust down here and there in his baggage, 
and then his keys returned to him with a cour- 
teous bow, and he permitted to go on his way ; 
while the man who allows himself to get worried 
and irritated, will find his troubles increasing 
with every stage of his journey. 

I found in my own experience a good deal 
of virtue in a bit of practical philosophy, which 
I learned from my friend Mr. Smith, on our 
voyage to Europe. It was the story of a jolly 
tar who had been promoted from the forecastle 
to the cabin, and from hauling ropes and reef- 
ing sails, to waiting on the table. 

In his first essay at his new business, he got 
along well enough, until he came to a lady who 
did not wish soup. "Take it away," said she, 
a I don't wish it." " Oh, but you must have it, 



30 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

you must have it, ma'ani," replied Jack, "it's 
the rules of the sarvice." So I remembered 
that the passport system and the custom-house 
search were "the rules of the sarvice," a part 
of the penalties one paid for travelling; and I 
acted accordingly, and never had the slightest 
difficulty, except once, in Prussia, where an 
official found a small doll in my trunk. The 
soldier took the toy to his superior officer, who 
only gave one look at it, with an indescriba- 
ble shrug of the shoulders, and exclaimed " bon " 
— all right. 

Taking a carriage at the depot, we were soon 
set down at the Hotel de Lille et d' Albion, and 
were saluted with a profound French courtesy 
by the hostess, and in a few moments conduct- 
ed to our rooms overlooking a neat garden full 
of flowers and statuary, and giving us just the 
slightest peep into the Rue de Bivoli and the 
gardens of the Tuileries. As the evening is 
upon us, we have only time to walk out into the 
nearest boulevard, where we stumble upon two 
friends whom we have not seen for years, and 
to return to our rooms and look over a little of 



HISTORICAL, 31 

the history of Paris, and to study somewhat its 
topography and statistics. 

There was a rude settlement upon the island 
in the Seine when Julius Caesar invaded Gaul. 
The people who dwelt here were a fierce and 
hardy race of hunters and fishermen. Their 
worship was Druidical, which was in time suc- 
ceeded by Soman idolatry, traces of which are 
still found over the city. 

Constantine honored the place with a visit, 
and Julian spent a winter here. 

At the close of the fifth century, Clovis rout- 
ed the Romans and made himself master of Paris. 
Then he married Clotilde, embraced Christiani- 
ty, and built a church. The introduction of the 
Christian religion, according to the monkish tra- 
dition, was accomplished by St. Denis, A. D. 
250. He was beheaded at Montmartre, and his 
headless statue adorns the porch of the church 
of St. Germain lAuxerrois, whither he walked 
after his execution, with his head in his hands. 

Towards the middle of the fourth century the 
growing wealth of Paris excited the cupidity of 
the Normans, who sacked and burnt it. After 



32 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the rise of the Capetian kings, the city began to 
increase and flourish. Century after century has 
witnessed its growing wealth and splendor. 
Revolution after revolution has passed over it, 
only to leave new monuments of taste and luxu- 
ry, and to hand down to other generations some 
new leaf in the history of the metropolis of France. 

Paris now contains 1,250,000 souls, of whom 
about one half are working people. There is 
annually expended $48,000,000 for food, $70,- 
000,000 for dress, and $10,000,000 for wines. 
There are about 3,000 liquor dealers in Paris, 
while in our two cities there are probably 8,000, 
— a strange disproportion in favor of the French 
metropolis, where I saw less drunkenness in a 
fortnight than one may see here in a single hour. 

But let us turn from these historical notices 
and statistics to begin our rambles over the city. 
Walking from our hotel, which lies hard by the 
Palace of the Emperor, and crossing the garden 
of the Tuileries, we come to the banks of the 
Seine, which flows through the city from the 
south-east to the north-west, dividing it into 
two unequal parts. Like most of the rivers of 



THE SEINE. 33 

Europe, which are rendered important by their 
historical connections chiefly, an American feels 
a sense of disappointment when he finds here a 
small and insignificant stream. It is crossed by 
a multitude of bridges, and navigated by small 
canal-boats, which bring down produce from the 
country. 

All along the banks of the Seine are swim- 
ming-schools and bath-houses. But when one 
looks at the muddy stream that is hurrying along 
towards the sea, holding in solution the soil of 
the country and the filth of the city, he wonders 
how a Frenchman can ever get clean there. 

There are twenty-three bridges across the 
Seine, four of which are built of iron, one of 
wood, and the rest are substantial structures of 
stone: of these the Pont-Neuf is the most cele- 
brated. 

Along the banks of the river are beautiful 
quays, extending in all more than eleven miles. 
They present the appearance of large terraces, 
with fine M'Adamized roads and foot pavement, 
bordered with trees neatly trimmed and kept in 
perfect order. Benches are placed along the 
3 



34 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

route for tired pedestrians, and in the evening 
the whole is brilliantly lighted with gas, thus 
furnishing a magnificent promenade for the citi- 
zens of Paris. 

But the grand resort of the Parisians begins 
with the garden of the Tuileries, where hun- 
dreds of seats are let every afternoon, by per- 
sons employed for the purpose, and extends 
upward as far as the Arc de Triomphe, near the 
city walls. 

Besides these splendid grounds, to which we 
shall recur again, are the Boulevards, which are 
fine streets, well shaded by trees, and extending 
almost around the city. There may be met of 
an afternoon tens of thousands, looking into the 
gay shops which are filled with articles of taste 
and use, or sitting clown before a restaurant 
enjoying an ice, or a bottle of wine, with a 
group of friends. 

When we add to these general features the 
splendid churches; palaces which appear in al- 
most every part of the city, each of which has 
its thrilling story of the mighty past ; the monu- 
ments which rise from every elevation and square ; 



TUILERIES. 35 

the fountains that play in the sunlight, or shine 
in their softened beauty amid the lamps that 
make Paris so brilliant at evening ; with the 
parks, and statues, and military and civil estab- 
lishments of the city, we have some idea of what 
we are to see in passing through the gay capital 
of France. Beginning now with the garden of 
the Tuileries, after we have looked at the long 
lines of statuary, and the fountains and groves 
which adorn the palace grounds, we turn our 
faces westward, and take our first walk of explo- 
ration. 

Entering a dense grove filled with chairs to 
rent, we come upon two hemicycles of white 
marble, with small and tasteful enclosures in 
front, adorned with some pieces of fine statuary. 
These are relics of the Revolution, and were 
designed by Robespierre. 

Passing onward, we come to two piers which 
rise into solid walls, from the west barrier of the 
Tuileries, enclosing a fountain and some groups 
of statuary designed to represent the great rivers 
of the old world. 

Leaving the gardens by the western gate, 



36 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

which is always guarded by sentinels, we come 
into a vast circle called the Place de Concorde. 
Until the time of Louis XV., this spot was a 
useless and shapeless piece of ground. It is now 
enclosed by balustrades, upon which stand eight 
colossal statues, which represent the chief cities 
of France. In the centre, and upon the very spot 
where the unfortunate Marie Antoinette died by 
the guillotine, stands the celebrated obelisk taken 
from the ruins of Luxor, and covered with hie- 
roglyphics, supposed to have been wrought dur- 
ing the time of Sesostris. This obelisk was 
brought from Egypt at a great expense, and its 
mate is to be found at Rome. A story is told 
about the obelisk at Rome which is w^orth re- 
peating. Workmen were engaged in raising 
that massive piece of stone to the pedestal pre- 
pared to receive it, and strict orders had been 
given that, during the operation, no one of the 
vast multitude assembled to witness it should 
utter a word. Gradually the ponderous stone 
rose very nearly to its place, and then it refused 
to move any farther. The ropes were stretched 
to their utmost tension, and there was great dan- 



OBELISK OF LUXOR. 37 

ger that the vast slab would fall, when suddenly 
an English sailor cried out, "Wet the ropes." 
The man was immediately arrested, but the 
quick ear of the foreman had caught the magic 
word. The ropes were wetted — they contracted 
— and the obelisk rose to its place. The next 
morning the sailor was not only released, but 
was most liberally rewarded. This is one of the 
instances in which apparent impossibilities have 
been achieved by a little practical knowledge. 

On either side of the column stands a foun- 
tain ; the one is dedicated to the ocean and the 
other to the river. They consist of circular ba- 
sins fifty feet in diameter, on which are erected 
colossal figures, with various emblems of the 
Ocean, Commerce, Art, and Science. Passing 
through the Place de Concorde, we come to the 
Champs Elysees, which is a long and beautiful 
park adorned with statues, and fountains, and 
groves. 

There stands the Palace of Industry, an im- 
mense building designed as a place for the ex- 
hibition of works of art. Taking our way 
through a magnificent avenue, we come to the 



38 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Arc de Trionrphe, built at an immense expense 
by Napoleon I. It is 152 feet high by 137 
broad, and 68 deep; and is adorned with repre- 
sentations of the great battles of the Empire. 

Here, in these Elysian fields, is the great resort 
of the gay citizens of Paris. Yonder, an avenue 
leads to the famous, or rather the infamous, Cha- 
teau des Fleurs. Here are given balls and con- 
certs, attended by persons whose reputation is 
by no means doubtful. I did not enter the 
place, although I was informed that it was fit- 
ted up in a style of Oriental splendor. But 
when I saw carriages driving up to the entrance, 
some filled with young men, and others with fe- 
males, who were to meet them amid these fasci- 
nations and excitements, I felt that over the por- 
tals of that place might be written the words of 
the wise man: "Her steps take hold on hell!" 
And these, I fear, are the resorts with which 
many a young American is familiar, who is sent 
to Paris to finish his education. For my own 
part, I would rather send a youth to the State 
Prison to perfect his morals, than to this city. 
There is doubtless a great deal of science in its 



PARISIAN LIFE. 39 

schools, and one may learn French perfectly, 
and gain a certain degree of polish, but he is in 
danger of acquiring much, of which he might 
better have remained ignorant for life. Every 
thing really useful to a young man may be ac- 
quired as readily at home, and with much greater 
safety. In Paris, where vice is everywhere 
present, she has not that hideous mien, 

••"Which to be hated needs but to be seen," 

but is always beautiful and attractive. Ten 
thousand tenrptations assail one on every hand 
— temptations just suited to his character, incli- 
nation, and tastes. u Live while you live," seems 
to be the motto of the Parisian. The predomi- 
nating characteristic of this brilliant city is 
thoughtless frivolity — amusement for the present, 
with no serious regard for the future. It must 
be hard to be a Christian in this great Vanity 
Fair. For myself, when returning from the 
American Chapel one Sabbath, through the 
Champs Elysees, surrounded by everything to 
divert the attention and call the mind away from 
serious things; with soft music wooing the ear. 



40 IMPRESSIO £ BROAD. 

and gay equipages attracting the eye ; with itin- 
erant tumblers and mountebanks of every de- 
scription; with Punch and Judy shows, before 
which crowds of people were standing in high 
glee; with fountains flashing in the sunlight, 
and fairy boats, and elevators, and hobby-horses 
in ceaseless motion ; with vast throngs of the gay, 
the lively, and the beautiful, sitting, or walking, 
or riding ; with all the life, bustle and vivacity 
of the French people around me, I found it nec- 
essary again and again to say, as I passed along, 
"Remember that you have an immortal soul to 
save." 

And this was on the Sabbath! And such 
would foreign infidels make our Sabbaths, if 
possible. God grant that America may never 
witness such a fearful defiance of Him who has 
bidden us remember His sacred clay of rest to 
keep it holy. 

And this is Paris, where Vice is under 
governmental patronage, and Virtue too often 
is but a name! where vice is made attractive, 
and the stern virtues of the Christian life seem 
austere and repulsive. And is this the city in 



THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE. 41 

which it is safe for our American citizens to 
leave their sons, with ample means of dissipa- 
tion? 

During a visit to Europe, one usually finds 
his interest enlisted by the antiquity of the ob- 
jects which he sees around. Age is novelty, 
and things are new to him because they are old. 
But the Bois de Boulogne is an exception to 
this. It is a splendid park just outside the city, 
which has been completed within three years. 
Napoleon found it a wilderness, the resort of 
duellists and suicides, and has left it a garden. 
Its fountains, and lakes, and cascades; its grot- 
toes, formed of stone brought from a distance, 
but which seem to have grown together for 
ages; its race-courses, and drives, and prome- 
nades ; its romantic dells and fairy bridges ; its 
tasteful lawns, and hills, and valleys — all alive 
with people who have come out to breathe the 
pure air — are a monument of the genius and 
will of the Emperor. He did not wait for trees 
to grow, but transplanted them hither full- 
grown. With his admirable apparatus, sum- 
mer and winter were alike, and the trees kept 
3* 



42 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

on growing in their new soil as if nothing had 
happened. 

Returning from this noble park, and pausing 
a moment at the Chapel of St. Ferdinand to see 
a fine painting of the death of the Duke of 
Orleans, we cross the Seine in front of the Leg- 
islative buildings, and, passing through the 
Champ de Mars, visit the Chapel of the Inva- 
lids, where the remains of Napoleon I. now 
find rest. Still farther eastward, we enter 
the famous Jardin des Plantes, or the Botan- 
ical Garden of Paris. It is a spot well worth 
a long visit. There you may find almost every 
variety of tree, from the American pine to the 
Asiatic palm, all in as good condition as if in 
their native soil. Countless varieties of plants 
are here, and animals innumerable. And all 
this collection is maintained by the State, at a 
vast expense, and is free alike to the poor and 
the rich of Paris. Truly, the Emperor has a 
way of doing things which is not like ours. 
Think of the popular instruction, and the im- 
petus given to popular inquiry and education 
by means of this open Garden of Plants. True, 



THE BASTILE. 43 

the money to support it comes from the people 
in the shape of heavy taxes, but it returns to 
them again, in the shape of instruction and 
amusement ; while our money comes from us in 
the same way, and returns to— the pockets of 
our officials! 

Passing still onward beyond the city limits, 
we come to Pere la Chaise, the great cemetery 
of Paris. It has no attractions, except the 
names of those who are buried there. Here is 
the tomb of Abelard and Heloise, with whose 
history all are familiar ; here, too, lie Talma 
and Rachel, and other celebrities of Paris and 
of France. 

Returning, we pass the column of July, erected 
upon the very spot where once stood that hated 
Bastile, which was destroyed in 1789, and the 
key of which was sent to our Washington by 
Lafayette. This key may still be seen at Mount 
Vernon. Prisoners in the Bastile were con- 
signed to a living death. Revenge was grati- 
fied by their incarceration, and tyranny soon 
forgot its victim, who lingered on hopelessly, 
till death relieved the captive. I remember 



44 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

reading, when quite young, the story of a man 
imprisoned in the Bastile for many years, who, 
when he was released, found that his dwelling 
had been long replaced by others, his family 
scattered or deceased, and himself homeless and 
without a friend. So he returned to his prison, 
and begged to be admitted once more to his 
lonely dungeon, which he had been so happy to 
leave a few hours before. Here fell the Arch- 
bishop of Paris while attempting to reason 
with the insurgents of 1848. His last words 
were, " May my blood be the last spilt in civil 
war." Passing homeward, let us take in our 
way the manufactory of Gobelin tapestry. 
These splendid tapestries equal, in their superb 
finish, the very best paintings, and are woven 
with many hundred different shades of color. 
The manufactory was founded, it is said, by a 
man named Gobelin, a dyer, and is now mo- 
nopolized by the government. The products of 
it are given as presents to the nobility and to 
the crowned heads of Europe, Queen Victoria, 
for instance, having several of them in her 
palaces. Portraits are sometimes copied in this 



ST. ROCH. 45 

way, as those of the Emperor and the Empress 
— who is a very beautiful woman — which are 
now "being wrought from a picture by one of 
the finest artists of France. 

Let us now return from this general survey 
of the city, to look at some of its churches. 

Just a moment's walk from our hotel, in the 
Rue St. Honore, stands the church of St. Koch, 
begun in 1653, by Louis XIV. You enter it 
through two ranges of Doric and Corinthian 
columns, which make a front of 84 feet broad 
by 91 high, and find a splendid building 405 
feet long. Near the entrance is the tomb of 
Pierre Corneille. Along the side of the church 
are eight or ten chapels, richly decorated with 
paintings, frescoes and statuary. Standing near 
one of the vast columns is the pulpit, formed of 
statues of the Evangelists, carved in oak, while 
a gilt angel, with outspread wings, supports the 
canopy. Passing behind the choir, we come to 
a shrine made of the cedar of Lebanon, richly 
decorated with mouldings of gold and bronze. 
Still beyond this is the chapel of the holy Sac- 
rament,— magnificently furnished to represent 



46 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the Holy of Holies,— built of rich marble, and 
containing all the ornaments of the Jewish 
ritual; re-producing, as far as art and genius 
and wealth can do it, the splendid scenery of 
the Temple at Jerusalem. In the choir stands 
a fine-toned organ, which, on festival occasions, 
alternates with a still finer and more magnificent 
one that is placed over the main entrance. The 
music in this church is said to be the best in 
Paris ; it is certainly of the most artistic char- 
acter. A service here is a novelty to an Ameri- 
can. The number of priests who engage in it, 
the ' richness of their garments, the character of 
the music, the appearance of the beadles as 
they walk up and down the marble aisles, bring- 
ing their heavy staves of office down upon the 
floor with a sound that makes one start and 
wonder what is coming next ; the women col- 
lecting their sous for the use of the chairs 
and prie-dieux; the priests passing among the 
crowd, during the service, to gather money for 
the church; the hum of voices in the chapel 
while service is progressing in the choir ; the 
clouds of incense that are ascending at the 



MADELEINE. 47 

altar ; the splendid works of art that shine out 
from the ceiling, the walls and every angle of 
the vast edifice, — combine to make the whole a 
scene not soon to be forgotten. 

But let us pass from this to the church of 
the Madeleine, — the pride of Paris, and one of 
the noblest specimens of modern genius and art 
that the world contains. Although begun in 
1704, it was not finished until the time of Louis 
Phillippe. It cost 13,079,000 francs. Its archi- 
tecture is Grecian, being surrounded by 52 
Corinthian columns, 49 feet high and 16 J feet in 
circumference. In the walls are 32 niches 
filled with statues of saints. Before you ascend 
the lofty flight of 28 steps, you notice that the 
whole entablature and ceiling are profusely 
decorated with the most elaborate sculpture. 
Look also to the pediment of the southern front, 
where is an immense alto-relievo, 126 feet by 
24. In the centre is the figure of Christ, with 
Magdalen at His feet ; to His right, the angels of 
mercy, Innocence and Faith. In the corner, an 
angel is greeting a spirit just rising to bliss ; 
and on the left of the Sovereign Judge the 



48 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

angel of vengeance is repelling hatred, unchas- 
tity, hypocrisy and avarice, while a demon is 
precipitating to the abyss a lost and damned 
spirit. 

Ascending the steps, pause, and study the 
magnificent bronze doors, — outvying all but 
those of St. Peter's, at E,ome, measuring 33 by 
16 J feet, and displaying in bas-relief Scriptural 
illustrations of the Decalogue, leaving out the 
second, and dividing the tenth Commandment. 

As you enter, you are amazed at the magnifi- 
cence and artistic beauty that meet you. Over 
the porch stands a superb Corinthian organ. 
On the right is the chapel for marriages, with a 
group representing the marriage of the Virgin. 
On the left, the Baptismal font, with a repre- 
sentation of the Baptism of Christ at Jordan. 
There are twelve confessionals, with a pulpit 
richly carved in oak, and gilt, and decorated like 
the organ. The church consists of one vast 
nave, interrupted by piers, fronted with lofty 
columns, supporting colossal arches, on which 
rest three cupolas with skylights spendidly dec- 
orated, and supported in the corners by figures 



DECORATIONS. 49 

of the Apostles. The richest marbles encrust 
the walls of the church. The floor also is of 
rich and variegated marble. The walls of the 
choir are ornamented with paintings and ara- 
besques on a ground of gold. The ceilings are 
decorated with magnificent frescoes, representing 
the propagation of Christianity. 

In the midst of the church, above a flight of 
marble steps, stands the high altar, surrounded 
by a group of statuary, among which the prin- 
cipal figure is Magdalen, borne upwards on the 
wings of angels. At each corner on a pedestal 
stands an archangel in prayer. 

For these figures, alone, 150,000 francs were 
paid ! 

While sitting in this church I took out my 
Testament and turned to the Epistle to the 
Hebrews, where Christ is spoken of as our only 
great High Priest ; and thought how it set aside 
all this pomp and pageant as utterly useless in 
the worship of the Christian Church ; and felt 
that when the word of (rod should come to be 
an open volume in France, as it is in Scotland, 
these splendid services would be replaced by a 



50 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

purer, and simpler, and more spiritual worship, 
in harmony with the order of God's house, and 
better adapted to lead the soul to Christ, and 
salvation. 



III. 

THE CHURCHES AND PALACES OF 
PARIS. 

WE will take a brief glance at two or three 
more of the churches of Paris, and then 
enter some of its most celebraced Palaces and 
Museums. First in reputation, if not in beauty, 
is the cathedral of Notre Dame. It stands 
upon an island called la Cite, near the spot 
where once stood a Roman temple — an altar of 
which was discovered in the year 1711. It is 
supposed that as early as A. D. 365 a church 
was built here, which was afterwards enlarged 
by Childebert. The foundations of Notre 
Dame were laid A. D. 1000, and in 1185, the 
Patriarch of Jerusalem, who had visited Paris 
to preach up the first Crusade, officiated in the 
church. Age after age witnessed some addition 



52 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

to the noble pile, which now presents a fine 
specimen of the Gothic architecture of the 12th 
century. The cathedral is 390 feet long, 144 
feet in width, and 142 feet high. Three vast 
arched portals lead to the interior from the front. 
Over these are circular windows 36 feet in 
diameter. As you enter the middle door-way, 
you see an elaborate representation in bas-relief 
of the Judgment. The angels are sounding the 
last trumpet — the dead are rising — the separa- 
tion of the righteous and the wicked is taking 
place — and the Saviour is upon the throne, sur- 
rounded by His angels and the emblems of His 
passion. On the sides of the jDortal are 24 
figures representing 12 virtues and their oppo- 
site vices. Beyond these are four other bas- 
reliefs: the offering of Isaac — the departure of 
Abraham — Job witnessing the destruction of 
his fiocks — and Job reproving his wife. On the 
massive doors are carved Christ bearing His 
Cross, and the Virgin in her sorrow. Apostles, 
patriarchs and kings fill up the niches which are 
left on either hand. The other two entrances 
resemble this in their elaborate designs, only 



r NOTRE DAME. 53 

differing in the scenes represented. Above 
these is a gallery of small pillars containing 
statnes of some of the French sovereigns. 
Looking still higher up you see a colossal statue 
of the Virgin, between two angels, and on either 
side a figure of Adam and Eve. Over this is a 
vast central window, and above all rises a lofty 
gallery of slender shafts, while on either corner 
is a noble tower 204 feet in height. 

Passing round to the south side of the 
church, we come to another arched entrance, 
ornamented with bas-reliefs of scenes in the life 
of Stephen. In the rear are innumerable 
columns, buttresses, figures, and shafts, at whose 
elaborate designs one gazes with wonder. The 
north side also has an entrance on which are 
figures and statues representing the Virgin 
crushing the Dragon — the Nativity, and the 
Adoration of the Magi. The Porte-Rouge is 
another splendid portal, between which and the 
eastern angle of the church are carvings which 
represent the Death, Funeral, and Assumption 
of the Virgin — Christ with the Angels, and 
Christ with the Virgin on a throne, the Virgin 



54 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

in an agony at the feet of the Saviour, and also 
delivering a woman who is about to sell herself 
to the Devil. Such is a general view of the ex- 
terior of the noble edifice. Within we find a 
vast series of columns, chapels, arches, pictures, 
altars, and statues, which would require many 
weeks to study and comprehend, and to which 
no description can do full justice. 

In this cathedral are performed the State 
ceremonies of France. Here the first Napoleon 
was crowned Emperor ; here the present Em- 
peror was married, and here, when the people 
shall call for the ceremony, the Third Napoleon 
will be crowned— for although the Emperor, he 
has not yet received the crown of France. 

On the occasion of the solemn Te Deum for 
the success of the French arms at Magenta, the 
soldiers of the National Guard and of the 
regular army were drawn up on either side, 
from the Tuileries to the cathedral, and these 
lines were themselves a magnificent sight. 

The scene which I had the pleasure of wit- 
nessing was thus described in Galignani's Mes- 
senger : 



IMPERIAL CORTEGE. 55 

u The cortege left the Tuileries by the Car- 
rousel, and then followed the Rue de Rivoli. 
A squadron of the mounted municipal guard 
headed the cortege, after whom came the car- 
riages of the Princess Mathilde, the Princess 
Clotilda, and next that of the Empress, who 
was accompanied by Prince Jerome. Her Maj- 
esty wore a yiolet silk dress, a chapeau of 
white crape, ornamented with a violet feather, 
and a white lace shawl. Marshal Magnan and 
General the Marquis de Lawcestine, followed 
by a numerous staff, escorted the Imperial car- 
riage, which was followed by detachments of 
lancers of the Imperial Guard and of the 6th 
Dragoons. The preparations made at the ca- 
thedral were on a grand scale. In the middle 
of the choir, opposite the altar, was placed a 
chair of state for the Empress Regent, with 
seats for Prince Jerome, the Princess Clotilda, 
the Princess Mathilde, and the other princes 
and princesses of the Imperial family. Places 
were also arranged for the cardinals, bishops, 
marshals, admirals, grand officers of the Crown, 
the household of the Empress, members of the 



56 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Senate, Legislative Body, and Council of State, 
as well as accommodation for different consti- 
tuted bodies. A second salute announced the 
close of the ceremony, when her Majesty and 
the cortege returned to the Tuileries in the 
same state in which they had left it. A violent 
storm of thunder, lightning and heavy rain burst 
over Paris just as the Empress arrived at the 
cathedral, and had ceased before the ceremony 
had concluded. At night, the public offices, 
theatres, and a vast number of private houses, 
were again most brilliantly illuminated." 

In the sacristy of the cathedral is a museum 
of religious curiosities and relics, which have 
been collecting for ages. This church, with, 
indeed, all the old churches of Paris, is now 
undergoing thorough repairs, under the super- 
vision of the Emperor, who seems determined 
to preserve them in their original beauty and 
splendor. 

Passing away from this spot, we come to the 
church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, which is over 
nine centuries old, and has wonderfully escaped 
the devastations of the Revolutionary mobs of 



THE REFORMATION. 57 

Paris. Trie exterior of the church is decorated 
with bas-reliefs and statues, and the interior is 
gorgeous beyond all power of words to de- 
scribe, with frescoes and paintings, statues and 
columns, altars and chapels, covered with gold. 
But its chief interest is its historic recollec- 
tions. 

Early in the progress of the Reformation, 
the truths of the gospel began to awaken the 
people of France from the slumbers of spiritual 
death. When the Protestant Church assumed a 
distinct organization, its principal features were 
like those of the other continental churches, 
being distinctly and decidedly Presbyterian. 

The first General Assembly was held in 
1559, one year before a similar body first met 
in Scotland. In the course of twelve years 
2150 churches had been established throughout 
France, some of which enrolled as many as 
7,000 members, among whom were many of 
the noblest men of the age. The Huguenots 
had obtained, as they supposed, liberty of con- 
science and immunity from further wrong ; and 
Charles IX., King of France, in order to lull 
4 



58 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

them into security, and thus prepare the way 
for his bloody purpose, declared that he was 
convinced of the impossibility of forcing men's 
consciences, and that he had determined to 
allow every man the free exercise of his re- 
ligion. The Huguenot leaders were loaded 
with favors, and this deception was kept up for 
two years, until all suspicion was completely 
lulled. On the occasion of the marriage of the 
King's daughter Margaret, with Henry of Na- 
varre, all of the royal and noble Protestants 
were invited to Paris to witness this union — a 
new pledge of reconciliation and concession. 
They came, and the plot was ripe for execution. 
Sixty thousand armed men were collected in the 
city, and the curtain rose upon the dreadful and 
bloody drama of St. Bartholomew's Eve, the 
24th of August, 1572. 

A little after midnight the deep tones of the 
cathedral bell summoned the soldiers to their 
work of death. First perished the Admiral 
Coligny, and then, at the sound of the bell of 
the Palais de Justice, the massacre of St. Bar- 
tholomew began. At the signal, every Catholic, 



st. Bartholomew's eye. 59 

having been forewarned, placed a light in his 
window and a white cross upon his cap, bound 
a white scarf upon his arm, and then rushed 
forth to the slaughter of the heretics. The 
dwellings of the Protestants were attacked, 
and the inmates dragged forth to death. The 
streets ran blood ; and the groans of the dying, 
the shrieks of the wounded, and the imploring 
cries of women and children, made music for 
the actors in this horrid drama of death. The 
King looked out upon the scene with frantic and 
fiendish joy ; the ladies of the court amused 
themselves with looking at the dead bodies of 
those slain within the palace, with whom they 
had been engaged in social intercourse a few 
short hours before. Sixty thousand men hunted 
down their brethren. For seven days this 
dreadful slaughter continued, and over ten 
thousand Protestants perished in Paris alone, 
and sixty thousand more throughout France. 

The news was received at Eome with exces- 
sive joy. The Cardinal Lorraine rewarded the 
messenger who brought the tidings of these 
unparalleled atrocities with a gift of ten thou- 



60 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

sand crowns. At Lyons, the Pope's legate 
absolved the murderers, by making over them 
the sign of the cross. Pope Gregory XIII. 
congratulated the King on the successful com- 
pletion of a purpose " so long meditated and so 
happily executed for the good of religion" and 
triumphal medals were struck, commemorating 
the occasion. Thus Home perpetuated her 
shame, and gave her sanction to the massacre of 
thousands of innocent and unoffending Chris- 
tians. This is all matter of history, and, try 
as he may, Bishop Hughes cannot blot out the 
record, though he may efface it from our school- 
books. 

When I entered this church of St. Germain 
I recalled these scenes of St. Bartholomew, for 
it was in the tower of this cathedral that the 
fatal signal was given for the Massacre. All 
night long its bells were tolling, mingling their 
deep vibrations with the shrieks of the wounded 
and the groans of the dying. As I passed 
down its aisles, indifferent to its gorgeous dec- 
orations—thinking only of the scenes with which 
it was associated — the bell struck the hour, and 



SAINTE CHAPELLE. 61 

as its heavy tones sounded upon my ear I started 
from my reverie as though I were hearing again 
the awful summons to the work of death. 

Passing away from this spot, we come to the 
Pantheon, built upon the ruins of St. (xeneveive 
by Madame Pompadour, — a pretty person to 
build a church ! The funds were raised by lottery. 
The dome of the church is 268 feet high, and 
the whole edifice is a noble pile of architecture. 
Its pillars and walls still bear the marks of the 
last Revolution. 

We must not omit the most splendid of the 
churches of Paris, the Sainte Chapelle, attached 
to the Palais de Justice, which, in the magnifi- 
cence of its statuary, frescoes, paintings and dec- 
orations, excells all the rest. The form of the 
church is somewhat peculiar. It is one hundred 
and eight feet long, fifty-five feet in breadth, and 
one hundred and thirty-nine feet in height — 
higher than it is long or broad. I will not 
attempt to describe this wonderful church. 
Among its relics is, of course, a piece of the 
True Cross. There are very few churches upon 
the Continent which are destitute of this relic. 



62 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

I have no doubt that there are enough pieces of 
the True Cross in the different Continental 
churches to make several of the size of the origi- 
nal. I have often thought, in looking at such 
relics, of a visit which a gentleman paid to one 
of these churches, with a native of the Green Isle 
for a cicerone. "Here," said the Irishman, "is 
the sword with which Balaam slew the ass." 
"But Balaam didn't have any sword," replied 
the visitor ; " he only wished for one, with which 
to smite the animal." "Eh?" rejoined the Irish- 
man ; " Well, then, this is the sword which 
Balaam wished for." Many of the relics which 
I saw were of a similar character. 

A great contrast to all this splendor and folly 
is seen in the American Chapel, in the Hue de 
Berri. I found here a noble band of earnest 
and faithful Christians laboring for the good of 
souls. Episcopal services were held in the 
morning, and in the afternoon the form of 
worship was like our own. On both occasions 
Christians of all denominations united with 
evident cordiality and good feeling. 

There was also a most promising Bible-class, 



VERSAILLES. 63 

under the tuition of an American gentleman, 
resident in Paris. 

But leaving the churches, let us take a 
glimpse at some of the palaces of France. Our 
first visit is to Versailles, which we reach by 
rail in half an hour. Walking up a fine old 
boulevard, which leads through the town, we 
come to the Rue de Reservoirs, which terminates 
at the palace. Three hundred years ago this 
spot was an immense forest, which had been the 
great hunting-ground of the Court of France. 
Here Louis XIIL built a pavilion in which to 
rest after the toils of the chase. Louis XIV. at 
length came to the throne, a monarch who 
loved pleasure and who followed it through all 
the fearful mazes of a guilty life, surrounding 
himself with every appliance which his volup- 
tuous nature demanded. His palace stood near 
the church of St. Denis, where lay the bones of 
his ancestors, and he could not bear the prox- 
imity of these silent monitors. The nearness of 
the tomb, and its stern and awful realities, in- 
terfered with his life of guilty pleasure, and 
brought thoughts of death — thoughts which he 



64 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

hated most— to his mind. He wished to live 
undisturbed by such gloomy reflections, and as 
it was the custom then, he believed that the 
common people lived solely for their monarch's 
pleasure, and accumulated wealth only that 
their masters might spend it, and determined to 
build Versailles, at a distance from St. Denis and 
its melancholy thoughts. Upon this palace he 
lavished the immense sum of $200,000,000, and 
in its erection 30,000 soldiers, besides mechanics 
and laborers innumerable, were employed, and 
the place soon contained a population of one 
hundred thousand persons. The surrounding 
wilderness became a garden surpassing all 
description, filled with statues, groves, fountains, 
lawns, and wonders of nature and of art, rival- 
ling Babylon in beauty and grandeur. Words 
fail to describe this royal abode ; no pencil can 
do it justice, and even sight itself fails, amid so 
many dazzling scenes. 

The palace is built with a projecting centre, 
and two extensive wings, and contains over five 
hundred rooms, filled with paintings and 
statues. The front of the building is about 



RECOLLECTIONS. 65 

twelve hundred feet long, and one travels nearly 
a quarter of a mile in going from one end to 
the other of this immense pile. On the extreme 
right wing, occupying about as much space in 
comparison with the rest of the building as does 
a little bed-room over the stairs, or a closet, in 
an ordinary house, is a splendid theatre, in 
which sat the beauties of the Courts of Louis 
XIV. and XV. and of the kings since their 
reigns, to witness the performances of the best 
actors of the age. 

Pause for a moment in the box where royalty 
once sat, with all the frail beauties of the 
French court, and recall the past. Think how 
the lost and infamous, though beautiful creatures 
of the French kings trod these halls even in 
the presence of the queens whom they had dis- 
placed from their monarch's affections. Recall 
the misery and woe under which many a noble 
heart here sank down with sorrow, and learn a 
sad but impressive lesson of the terrible results 
of sin, and the fearful examples of splendid mis- 
ery which the history of France presents. 

Upon that stage poor Marie Antoinette once 
4* 



66 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

sank down with shame and grief while enacting 
a tragedy (too soon to be followed by one far 
more terrible), when she heard the hiss of her 
dissolute husband. There operas were perform- 
ed at a nightly expense of $25,000, paid for by 
the poor toiling millions of France, and there 
the excited and angry mob held its revels when 
it had broken down the power of royalty, and 
hung the inmates of the surrounding palaces at 
their very gates. 

Passing out of this place with its terrible 
memories, we enter a vast gallery of sculpture 
of the kings and queens of France. Parallel 
to this are two other halls of equal length, 
(300 feet,) the one devoted to paintings de- 
scriptive of French history, and the other to 
the story of Constantine, <fcc. 

Leaving these halls, we enter the Koyal Chap- 
el, gorgeously fitted up, to which the dissolute 
Court used to retire to atone for days of sin by 
an hour of worship ; and feeling a sentiment of 
awe at the surroundings of religion, imagined 
themselves forgiven, and went out to new sin. 
Religion was fashionable then, and went in sil- 



GALLERIES. 67 

ver slippers, and they evidently thought that 
they had solved the problem, how sin and piety 
could exist together. Crowds went to church 
more to see the king than to worship. To test 
this, a maitre one day announced that the king 
would not be present at chapel that day, and 
in a few moments the church was empty. 

Here, at yonder magnificent altar, Marie An- 
toinette was married, and began that sad drama 
which was at length terminated amid the hor- 
rors of the guillotine, and the taunts and execra- 
tions of the cruel mob that was thirsting for her 
blood. Passing hence through the Saloon of 
Hercules, and other halls named after mytho- 
logical characters, and fitted up to correspond 
with the name, the eye is dazzled with their 
varied beauties. The ceilings are adorned with 
the finest frescoes, and rich, gilded cornices ; while 
splendid paintings, and furniture of the most 
costly kind, meet you at every turn. Here 
is the Looking-Glass Gallery, 242 feet long, by 
35 wide, and 42 feet high. Turning to the left, 
we come to the private rooms of the royal 
family. 



68 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Here is the cabinet of Louis XIV., into which 
Madame du Barry, one of his courtesans, once 
entered, while the king was busy, snatched a 
bundle of State papers from his hand and threw 
them into the fire, the king laughing gaily the 
while. That same du Barry, a short time after- 
wards, called out, while in the grasp of a rude 
mob, for " Life ! " u life ! " while the only replies 
to her entreaties were brutal jests upon the soft 
pillow which the guillotine would make for 
that fair head. Surrounded by a drunken and 
maddened mob, she was dragged in a cart to 
the block. Her long tresses, with which the 
king had often dallied, were shorn from her 
head, and from the struggling yictim was heard 
the piteous cry of "Save me, save me!" But 
her distress and her dangerous beauty only drew 
upon her the rude laugh of the rabble. With 
coarse violence her executioners bound her to 
the fatal plank; the glittering knife fell, and 
her limbs relaxed in death as her head fell into 
the trough — and all was over. Hurrying away 
from these apartments, we enter the small rooms 
of the king. 



A SAD DEATH. 69 

Here is the luxurious bed-chamber, in which 
Louis XIV. died — for even kings must die— 
upon a splendid couch, decorated as one would 
imagine the bed of so profligate a monarch to be, 
attended only by an old and withered woman, 
for all his Court had fled and left him alone with 
that loathsome disease, the small-pox. The 
furniture of this bed-room was twelve years in 
making. 

Here, too, died Louis XV., surrounded by his 
courtiers, to whom he said, with a most touch- 
ing pathos, "Gentlemen, gentlemen, I implore 
your pardon for the bad example I have set 
you. Think of me sometimes, I pray you ! O 
God, come to my aid and help me." Fit com- 
mentary upon his career. A vast throng stood 
in the court-yard awaiting the tidings of his 
death. An officer of the household took a staff 
and broke it, saying, "Gentlemen, the king is 
dead," and then raising another rod, shouted, 
u Vive le Roi" and the throng welcomed the 
rising Star of France, and forgot him whose light 
was quenched in the night of the grave. 

Passing onward through splendid suites of 



70 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

rooms, we come to the queen's bed-chamber 
Here it was that Marie Antoinette sought for 
rest and shelter when the mob was thundering 
at the gates of the palace. From this spot she 
escaped with her life, only to fall by a more 
fearful death after her trial before the Revolu- 
tionary tribunal. 

But we cannot linger here. Gallery succeeds 
to gallery in this wonderful spot, each one vy- 
ing with the other in interest and beauty — or 
being a repetition of previous splendors. Every- 
where we meet some new monument of taste, 
wealth, beauty, and folly. We might pause 
here for days, for there are hundreds of rooms, 
and thousands of pictures, and jewels, and stat- 
ues, and objects of historic interest. Here is 
the spot where Madame Montespan, who had 
left her husband to become the mother of the 
children of an abandoned king, when ordered 
to leave the palace, seized a knife and attempt- 
ed to take the life of her child. Here lived 
Madame Maintenon, who succeeded in the short- 
lived affections of the monarch. Here flourish- 
ed the most majestic of all the Bourbons, of 



PETITE TRIANON. 71 

whom it was said, "They who occupy thrones 
are the most unfortunate in the world." 

Going out of the palace, one notices statues 
in every angle, chief among which is the eques- 
trian statue of Louis XIV. The State carriages 
also attract attention, that of Charles X. costing 
$100,000, as much money as our President 
receives for his four years' services. 

The Park of Versailles is immense, containing 
about thirty-two thousand acres, and is dotted 
here and there with small palaces, among which 
is the Petite Trianon, splendidly furnished and 
built in the Roman style, and in which the king 
used to retire and play the part of an humble 
innkeeper, the ladies and gentlemen of his court 
acting in various capacities — one as the baker, 
another as the cook, and so on, forgetting for a 
while their rank, and occupying themselves 
with the cares of humble life. This palace was 
built for Madame du Barry, but has been suc- 
cessively occupied by all the queens of France ; 
and here lived the first Xapoleon with his Jo- 
sephine. 

There is one solemn lesson to be drawn from 



72 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

this scene — the vanity of human greatness and 
glory. It was short pleasure and long woe. 
Far better piety, even in poverty and sorrow, 
than to march, in royal robes and gilded crowns, 
to eternal misery and death. God grant that 
we may never see such sights here, but that 
Americans, satisfied with their quiet homes — 
the abodes of love, peace, virtue, and purity — 
may continue to live in Kepublican simplicity, 
and refuse to imitate either the vices or the 
splendor of European courts. 



IV. 

PARIS TO LYONS. 

WE have time to take but a parting glance 
at two or three more of the objects of 
interest in Paris.— To begin with the Tuileries, 
the present residence of the Emperor. The pal- 
ace is about 1,000 feet long, by 118 wide. We 
pass up a broad staircase, and through suites of 
rooms, galleries, and saloons, in some respects 
surpassing in richness and splendor those of 
Versailles. Draperies of velvet and gold, richly 
frescoed ceilings, exquisite paintings, statues of 
marble, bronze, and silver, and carpets woven 
in the looms of the Gobelins, make up the 
sights which are to be seen here. The hangings 
of the Throne Room are of dark red velvet, 
manufactured at Lyons, with palm leaves and 
wreaths wrought in gold. The throne is-cano- 



74 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

pied with the same material, and stands upon 
an elevated platform, upon the back of which 
is the imperial eagle, surrounded by a wreath 
of gold. 

But we cannot pause here, except to look out 
from the large centre window and admire the 
magnificent scene which stretches before us, and 
to think of the sad fate of many who once lived 
amid these splendors, and who, during the Rev- 
olutions of France, passed away like a dream. 

Here dwelt the First Consul, and when he 
was declared Emperor, it was again his home. 
Here dwelt the royal family after the restora- 
tion, until the palace was again attacked by the 
mob of 1830. Here lived Louis Phillippe, 
when he was recalled to his throne by the cries 
of Vive le Roif and here he signed his abdica- 
tion, when the garden of the Tuileries w^as fill- 
ed with a fierce and angry mob, from which he 
barely escaped with his life. And here lives 
the present Napoleon ; but for how long who 
can predict ? It may be for life ; it may be that 
the next steamer may bring the news of his ab- 
dication, or of his death. Alas! France wants 



THE LOUVRE. 75 

the elements of a stable government. She 
needs what it will take ages to give her: the 
Family, Home, the Bible, and the Sabbath. 
Perpetnal life out of doors ; the confusion of 
the first day of the week, with all the others ; 
and a religion given by priests, are enough to 
make any government unstable. 

Leaving the Tuileries, we enter the ancient 
palace of the Louvre, with its vast halls and 
saloons filled with rich collections of paintings 
and sculptures, and historical and antique curi- 
osities. It is the work of a day simple to pass 
through it. Here is the Antique Museum, 
made up of statues, bas-reliefs, and frescoes, 
from Egypt, Greece, and Rome, which seem to 
have reproduced the arts of these countries and 
fixed them in all their varied extent and beauty. 

The Museum of the Sovereigns is composed 
of the relics of the kings and queens of France. 
Here is the shoe of Marie Antoinette ; the scep- 
tre of Charlemagne ; the crown of Louis XVI. ; 
and the writing-desk of Louis Phillippe. But 
we pause longest, and with most indescribable 
feelings, in the room wholly devoted to the arti- 



76 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

cles owned and used by Napoleon I. Here is 
his full dress, worn on State occasions ; his sad- 
dle; his gloves; his uniform, worn at Marengo ; 
the hat he wore at St. Helena, and the handker- 
chief with which the death-damps were wiped 
from his "brow when he passed away forever 
from the dreams of battle. 

But, giving a rapid glance at the Marine Mu- 
seum, filled with models of the ships, seaports, 
and public docks of France ; at the Assyrian 
Gallery, at the Museum of Modern Sculpture, 
Paintings, &c, we must hasten to the Luxem- 
bourg, a palace which was built for Marie de 
Medicis, in 1612, where we find a repetition of 
the magnificence of the Tuileries and the galle- 
ries of the Louvre. Leaving this, we visit the 
Hotel de Cluny, one of the finest remaining 
specimens of the ancient mansions of the six- 
teenth century. It was built about the year 
1480, upon the ruins of an ancient Koman bath, 
and was inhabited by Mary, the sister of Henry 
VIII., of England, and the widow of Louis XII., 
of France. After passing through many hands, 
it is now in possession of the government, which 



HOTEL DE CLUNY. 77 

has restored it to its former appearance, so that 
it presents an exact fac simile of a Parisian man- 
sion in the sixteenth century. Even in the fur- 
nishing of the rooms, this idea is carried out, 
and they are crowded with relics of an intensely 
interesting historical character. Here we find 
beautiful tapestry, ecclesiastical dresses of al- 
most every age, curious suits of armor, old fur- 
niture, crockery, enamels, glass ware, antique 
beds, quaint ear-rings, altar-pieces, and, in short, 
everything necessary to give a correct idea of 
life in the earlier acres of the French nation. 
Near this museum are the remains of an ancient 
Roman palace, in which Julian lived when he 
was declared Emperor by his troops. 

But leaving unnoticed many scenes of great 
interest, we hasten to our hotel, and bidding 
adieu to our hostess, and to Paris, we take tick- 
ets for Fontainebleau, on our way to Lyons, 

For my part, I quitted the city without a re- 
gret. I had spent two weeks there looking at 
its wonders, and recalling the thrilling histories 
which are connected with its monuments ; but I 
had little sympathy with that gay, excitable, and 



78 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

pleasure-loving people. If I had no soul to save, 
or God to serve, I might be content to live there. 
But I sat down in the car — saw the conductor 
lock the door — heard the shriek of the locomo- 
tive; saw the train move on; knew that I 
was probably never to see that beautiful city 
again, and was whirled away into the valley of 
the Seine without a sigh of regret for all that I 
was leaving behind me. God forbid that our 
own land should ever number among its cities 
one like Paris — great, powerful, and magnificent 
as it is. 

For many miles it is visible, as we pass on 
southward, through smiling fields and pictur- 
esque villages, skirting the bright waters of the 
Seine. It is the season of harvest, and the fields 
are alive with the peasantry — young and old, 
men, women, and children — busily engaged in 
reaping the golden grain or gathering it into 
bundles. A ride of forty miles brings us to the 
station of Fontainebleau, which we reach over a 
splendid viaduct of thirty arches. This is a city 
of about 10,000 inhabitants, but with few attrac- 
tions, save the splendid palace, which stands 



FONTAINEBLEAU. 79 

upon the outskirts of a vast forest, the famous 
hunting-ground of the kings of France, the scene 
of exciting dramas and magnificent displays 
upon which the curtain of death has now fallen. 
Three hundred years ago the present chateau 
was built. Here were held princely revels when 
Charles of Germany was the guest of Francis. 
Here was signed the revocation of the Edict of 
Nantes, so fatal to the Protestant cause in 
France. Here Napoleon announced to Jose- 
phine his intended divorce ; and here, standing 
upon those stairs, he reviewed his army and 
took leave of it, when he had signed his abdi- 
cation. 

I need not attempt a description of Fontaine- 
bleau. It is but a repetition of Versailles, with 
its memorials of regal grandeur, and its sad and 
touching lessons of the transitory and uncertain 
nature of all earthly glory. You wander through 
vast saloons and galleries filled with the wealth 
of ages, and think of Marie Antoinette and her 
tragic end ; and Josephine, with her painful and 
sad story ; and Napoleon, whose star went down 
amid storm and darkness. You wander over 



80 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the splendid gardens and grounds, recall the 
time when they witnessed the mustering of gay 
courtiers and dashing huntsmen, and heard the 
call of the bugle and the deep baying of the 
hounds. You think of the times when the 
vast avenues were crowded with the equipages 
of princes, who swept upwards towards these 
festal halls, now all deserted and silent, save 
when curious visitors enter them, and hurry 
through, little heeding the sad stories they 
might tell. 

All has vanished of this splendor. The pa- 
geant has gone by. Glad voices are hushed. 
Bright eyes are quenched in death. The robe 
and the sceptre and the diadem are exchanged 
for the cerements of the grave. 

Entering the cars again, we are whirled 
through a beautiful and fertile country, and by 
many a fine and populous city, until we reach 
Lyons and the Hotel Callet. 

A letter of introduction to our consul, Hon. 
J. W. White, procured for us the kind attentions 
of himself and family. It affords me great j^leas- 
ure thus ^publicly to speak of our representa- 



THE AMERICAN CONSUL. 81 

tive in that city, one who well sustains the rep- 
utation of America, and who by his official and 
private character has secured the respect and 
esteem of the citizens of Lyons, and the grateful 
memory of many who have received his atten- 
tions and kindness. 

I met at his house the venerable Count de 
Castellane, the oldest Marshal of France, who 
was an officer under the first ISTapoleon during 
the Russian campaign. At his advanced age 
he is still hale and hearty, and has the charge 
of one hundred thousand soldiers. 

The city of Lyons has a population of about 
275,000 inhabitants, and is built on a tongue 
of land, about three miles long, between the 
rivers Seine and Rhone, the one having swept 
down hither from the northern slope of the 
Jura mountains, the other from the tremendous 
glaciers of Switzerland, through the pure waters 
of Lake Leman. Wending our way to the cita- 
del, commanding the town, from which we have 
a magnificent view of the valley of the Rhone; 
we can see the vast ranges of hills, terminating 
in the Alps, prominent among which is the glit- 



82 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

tering summit of Mont Blanc. In the rear of 
this terrace is the cathedral of Notre Dame, 
on whose tower is a statue of the Virgin, twen- 
ty-eight feet high. Not far from this is the old 
church of St. Irenseus, built over an ancient 
crypt used by the early Christians of Lyons. 
An old woman, intensely French, bearing a 
lighted candle, preceded us down into the crypt. 
Calling our attention to the ancient pavement, 
which remains unaltered since it was first laid, 
she leads the way to the tombs of Irenseus and 
other early Christians; and also to the tomb 
of a female, who, in her misapplied devotion, 
spent the closing years of her life, which she 
should have adorned by deeds of active charity, 
in this subterranean abode, counting over her 
beads, saying her prayers, and thinking that she 
was serving God. Still farther on is a grated 
window, looking into a dark vault, where are 
collected the bones of nineteen thousand mar- 
tyrs, who are said to have perished in the first 
ages of the church. 

In the fine Gothic cathedral of St. Jean, be- 
gun in the seventh century, we witnessed the 



fsILK MANUFACTORIES. 83 

ceremonies of the grand Te Deum, in honor of 
the victory of Magenta. Climbing up, through 
suffocating staircases, into a gallery sixty feet 
from the floor, we had a full view of the mag- 
nificent procession, composed of officers of rank, 
cardinals, priests, acolytes, and soldiers, as it en- 
tered the church. The soldiers went through 
their drill at the word of command and at the 
tap of the drum, while the religious services 
went on, in no wise interrupted by the crash of 
arms. 

One of the most interesting features of Lyons 
is her manufactories of silk. In the high parts 
of the city, amid old houses and steep and nar- 
row streets, we find a large portion of the sub- 
urbs devoted to this business. There are about 
32,000 looms engaged in it. These factories are 
not large, like our cotton mills, but a proprietor 
rents out an ordinary house to a factor, who fills 
it with looms. Frequently the work-shop and 
dwelling apartments are in the same house, so 
that the operations are most economical. They 
have carried their work to great perfection, be- 
ing able to weave into the silk the most exqui- 



84 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

site pictures and portraits. The machinery for 
the work resembles, in its general details, the 
power carpet-looms. There are 38,000 men 
employed at this work, and their influence in 
the city sometimes makes the greatest police 
vigilance necessary, especially in times of panic 
and commercial depression. During the last 
crisis, when hundreds were out of employment 
and clamoring for "bread, the Emperor ordered 
the Bois de Boulogne, a large park, to be laid 
out, and so furnished employment for fourteen 
hundred men, saving as many families from 
want, and making himself intensely popular. 

Lyons, although a Boman Catholic city, has 
several Protestant churches, which are sources 
of great good to the people. I attended service 
at the English Episcopal chapel, where I heard 
a most excellent sermon from Mr. Barter, who 
also administered the Sacrament of the Lord's 
Supper. As I partook of these consecrated ele- 
ments in that city, far away from home, I felt 
that I could heartily join in repeating the creed 
and saying, " 1 believe in the communion of 
saints ! " 



PROTESTANTISM. 85 

I attended also the French chapel, under the 
Rev. Mr. Cordes, whose acquaintance I made, 
and from whom I learned many interesting facts 
in regard to the work which is going on in the 
south of France. Here is a most hopeful field 
for effort, for in the French Catholics there is a 
substratum of genuine piety which makes them 
peculiarly susceptible to evangelical truths. 
The Protestant Church here is Presbyterian. 
Part of it is supported by government, and thus 
is obliged to submit to governmental interfer- 
ence. In consequence of evils that have thus 
arisen, especially in regard to proper church dis- 
cipline, a new church has been formed, indepen- 
dent of the State, and is supported by many 
faithful and pious men, and they are doing a 
great and good work. Even among Catholics, 
they find most hopeful cases of conversion. 
Among the instances related to me, was that of 
a poor woman who became convicted of sin. 
She went to her priest, and he advised her to 
make a nine days' pilgrimage to the church of 
St. Fouvriere, dedicated to Mary. She attend- 
ed to his counsel, but found no relief. The 



86 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

burden was still upon her heart. The priest 
gave her some pictures, and told her to study 
them and repeat so many prayers. This she 
did faithfully, but with no better result. 
Then the priest gave her some images to look 
at and pray, and assured her she would find 
peace. She followed his advice, but no peace 
came. At length she became ill and took to 
her bed. Here a Protestant sister found her, 
and learned the cause of her sickness. She told 
her she had a remedy. She took the Scriptures 
and read to her the words of Jesus and His pre- 
cious promises. Peace came to her heart — she 
recovered her health, and lived and died a sin- 
cere believer in Christ. There is a great deal 
of interest manifested in Sabbath-schools, and 
much is doing for the instruction of children „ 
They have also Bible-classes for adults, and 
there are Bible-readers who go from house to 
house, among the poor, opening to them the 
Scriptures, and teaching them the way of salva- 
tion. The work of the Protestant church lies 
chiefly among the poor and the middle classes, 
as the aristocracy or nobility are Catholics. 



RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 87 

But I was happy to hear that the Emperor, 
while himself a rigid papist, is desirous to have 
full religious liberty in France. And a case 
was related where he had interfered to set at 
liberty four persons who were victims of priestly 
intolerance, and had been put in prison for 
preaching the Gospel. There are a number of 
Presbyterian churches in and about Lyons, and 
in France they have enough to form several 
Presbyteries and a Synod. 

Many earnest inquiries were made in regard 
to the revival in America, and a deep interest 
was manifested in its progress. When I turned 
from Lyons, I felt that there were in operation 
in that city means which, with the blessing of 
God upon them, would accomplish immeasura- 
ble good for France. 



V. 

LYONS TO NAPLES. 

IT was a pleasant day, in the middle of June, 
that we took the cars at Lyons for Montali- 
mar, where we were to spend the night. 

The road leads through a country of much in- 
terest and beauty, its fields highly cultivated, 
and its towns and villages exceedingly pic- 
turesque, many of them presenting abundant 
evidences of their high antiquity, and their 
Roman origin. The waters of the Rhone are 
flashing by us on their way to the sea, and the 
valley through which we are passing presents a 
succession of beauties, rarely surpassed. At 
times the river sweeps round the base of some 
majestic cliff, crowned with the venerable ruins 
of an ancient fortress, built in the era of Roman 



MO'NTALIMAR. 89 

greatness and power, and then opens into a 
broad and lovely plain, smiling amid the glories 
of the harvest. Occasionally the distant and 
snow-clad Alps tower over the intervening hills 
and stand out in solemn grandeur against the 
soft blue sky, and its rich drapery of clouds 
reflects the golden beams of the setting sun. 

Just at evening the train stops at the old city 
of Montalimar, surrounded by ramparts, abound- 
ing in queer and quaint old ruins, and chiefly 
devoted to the manufacture of morocco and 
soap ! A diminutive omnibus, with a jolly fat 
driver, conveys us through ancient, odd-looking 
streets, with an indescribable appearance of 
having once seen better days, into the court of 
an old French inn, full of diligences, donkeys 
and fleas — especially fleas, and exceedingly ac- 
tive ones at that. A long and dingy-looking 
building, with flights of stone steps leading to 
interminable corridors and halls, is the Post-Inn 
where we are to spend the evening. Our lodg- 
ing room, with its fixtures, its elaborate wain- 
scotting, and its venerable furniture, is a curios- 
ity, and the whole establishment presents us 



90 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

with a very good idea of a French inn of the 
olden time. The scenery around Montaliinar 
is most brilliant and exceedingly picturesque, 
while the appearance of" the town itself cannot 
fail to delight the lover of the antique. 

Passing down from this city, through ever- 
varying beauties and splendors,— now skirting 
the waters of the Rhone, or crossing one of its 
numerous tributaries; then plunging through 
dark tunnels, built under large cliffs or head- 
lands ; now coming in sight of the ruins of an 
ancient Roman triumphal arch, or citadel, or 
aqueduct, or palace, — -we at last pause for a while 
to look at the magnificent building, standing in 
full view at the station at Avignon, and inter- 
esting as being the ancient residence of the Pope 
during the schism between the churches of 
France and Italy, when two Popes claimed the 
Keys. The succession has never yet been set- 
tled, at least to our satisfaction, and we shall 
remain a Presbyterian until this nice point has 
been satisfactorily adjusted. Here Petrarch once 
lived and saw his Laura, whose fate was mingled 
so tenderly and touchingly with his own. 



NISMES AND ARLES. 91 

From Avignon our way is still southward, 
through a country the character of whose 
scenery now changes to a rugged and sublime 
grandeur and wildness. We turn out of our 
way to visit, at Msmes, a noble amphitheatre 
— the ruins of the Temple of Diana, and gar- 
dens and fountain, which are fine evidences of 
ancient art and taste. As we pass onward, we 
observe many women in the quaint costumes of 
the south of France, which would be regarded 
here as great curiosities. Their head-dresses are 
immense, rising tier upon tier — but they have 
very pretty faces under them, nevertheless. 
From Aries, a city renowned for its Roman 
ruins, its quaint costumes, and its beautiful 
women, we pass over a vast unbroken plain, 
which, with its marshes and lagoons, is said to 
resemble Africa. Hurrying by long series of 
ruins, tunnels, embankments, viaducts and 
bridges, we at length enter the suburbs of Mar- 
seilles, and just at dusk are whirled past beau- 
tiful country seats, looking out upon lofty hills, 
crowned with chateaux and citadels, until we 
stop at the station in the city. After the ordinary 



92 IMPRESSIONS BROAD. 

detention we are permitted to go to the Hotel 
des Empereurs, to experience there a system of 
extortion so thorough that it would do credit to 
any city in Italy. We mention the name of this 
hotel, so that if any of our friends ever visit 
Marseilles they may avoid it and go to some 
other, to be fleeced, probably, just as badly. 

Marseilles has a population of about two 
hundred thousand. It is beautifully situated 
upon, and surrounded by, hills which form a 
noble landmark to the sailor upon the Mediter- 
ranean. It has a fine harbor. As I sat upon 
the deck of the steamer, and watched the pro- 
cess of getting under way, and saw our ship 
shooting out from the midst of a fleet of vessels 
of all sizes and descriptions, I found sincere 
pleasure in looking out upon the scenes which 
were opening before me. Our ship was crowded 
with officers, soldiers, and priests, on their way 
to the seat of war, and we met two ships bound 
for France and loaded with Austrian prisoners. 
The coast, as we sail towards Italy, presents a 
variety of scenes of exceeding beauty. Four 
days from Marseilles, most of which time had 



BAY OF NAPLES. 93 

been spent at Genoa, Leghorn and Civita Vecchia, 
we sighted the headlands of the Bay of Naples, 
and as I came upon deck and canght my first 
glimpse of the scene, I felt that description was 
surpassed, and that the half of its glories had not 
been told. The beautiful indentation of the 
shore which forms the Bay of Naples commences, 
on the North, at the Cape of Miseno, and sweep- 
ing round, in a most graceful curve, towards the 
east and south, terminates at the Capo Delia 
Campanella, making a circuit of thirty-five 
miles. 

As our ship rounds the northern headland, 
there come rapidly into view beautiful and bold 
shores, covered with Italian villas, palaces, gar- 
dens and convents — until the whole of this mag- 
nificent bay bursts upon the view and presents 
a scene which has, perhaps, no equal, and which 
no pen can fully describe. Almost in the centre 
of this glorious picture, Vesuvius, its head 
wreathed by the dark clouds of smoke which 
ceaselessly roll up from its crater, rises majes- 
tically from a lovely valley. As the eye sweeps 
around the beautiful coast, it takes in a series of 



94 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

villages and hamlets, peeping ont from groves 
of orange, citron and olive-trees, while behind 
them the distant hills rise in graceful outlines, 
and mountains, softened by distance and mel- 
lowed by the indescribable glow of an Italian 
atmosphere, shut in the lovely scene. 

Turning from this picture, to which words do 
no justice, we catch our first view of the city of 
Naples, which lies upon a smaller indentation 
of the bay. Dashing by lines of forts and castles, 
through fleets of small vessels, with the peculiar 
oriental model of the Mediterranean, which are 
lying quietly at anchor, — just as the morning 
bugle is arousing the soldiers of the castle, and 
the guns of the ships-of-war are thundering over 
the waters, we come to anchor under the range 
of one of the batteries, and opposite the Custom- 
house of Naples. During the long hours we 
spend in waiting for the return of our passports, 
which have been sent on shore to the police, we 
amuse ourselves by watching the small boats 
which surround the ship, filled with fruit or 
other edibles, or laden with musicians who have 
all the airs of opera singers, and who have come 



GETTING ASHORE. 95 

out to pick up a few pence for their perform- 
ances. At last the officers of the Government 
are satisfied, and we are permitted to debark. 
Small boats now swarm about the vessel like 
leeches, and the boatmen tender their services 
most pertinaciously. 

While we are wondering how we shall make 
our way to the shore, we hear a voice asking in 
good English, " Is there any one here for the 
Hotel des Etrangers ? " " Yes," we replied, 
" It is the very hotel to which we have been 
recommended. What is your name % " " Luigi 
Capelli." "And you," said we, u are the very 
man of whom we heard at Lyons." We found 
Luigi the very prince of guides. Putting our- 
selves under his care, we were soon landed, and 
after the usual formalities and extortions at the 
Custom-house, permitted to go to our hotel on 
the shore of the bay. Indeed, it seems to me 
that the Government officials at Naples have 
reached the very acme of cheating. One wants 
pay for lifting your trunk ; another for touching 
it ; another for looking at it ; and still another 
must be paid for letting it down. And then, 



96 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

having escaped these, you have to encounter a 
swarm of beggars in all stages of misery, and 
seemingly with every form of disease. They 
abound everywhere in Naples, and are so active 
and pertinacious that it is almost impossible to 
escape them. A blind beggar, and a lame one, 
once ran a race with our carriage, coming from 
Pompeii, and kept up with us for several blocks. 
The lame man came out second best. Begging 
is one of the arts of Naples, and is carried to 
a perfection of which we can have had no idea. 
It is a great relief to reach our hotel, and hear 
the bright waters of the Mediterranean murmur 
at our feet their ceaseless music. 

Our first thought is of Pompeii and Hercu- 
laneum, and under the direction of Luigi, we 
are soon on our way thither. We pass through 
the crowded streets of Naples, filled with a busy 
bustling population ; and what they have to be 
busy about no one can tell, for there is nothing 
to do, and yet they contrive to be merry in the 
midst of misery and want, and with no com- 
merce worth speaking of, manage to give their 
city the air of a modern metropolis of trade. 
Il 



A PLEASANT RIDE. 97 

They are a nation of Mark Tapleys, and like that 
character in Dickens' novel, they are jolly under 
the worst of circumstances. Tapley was to have 
upon his tomb, " Here lies a man who would 
have come out strong, but never had the oppor- 
tunity." The people of Naples have the oppor- 
tunity and they improve it ! We make our way 
out through troops of lazzaroni and beggars ; 
amid donkeys and Neapolitan cabriolets ; past 
companies of soldiers; processions of priests; 
splendid churches and palaces ; squalid and 
wretched hovels; lovely villas, surrounded by 
gardens laid out with exquisite taste ; long lines 
of high stone walls, through which may be occa- 
sionally seen the entrance to some fine mansion ; 
over a road of lava, the dust of which as it rises 
behind us is almost intolerable, — out to the 
beautiful coast of the bay. Before us Vesuvius, 
with its two peaks, rises to the height of four 
thousand feet. The road to Pompeii leads by 
the base of the mountain, through a succession 
of villages, which seem but a continuation of 
Naples. As we approach the modern town built 
over the ruins of Herculaneum, unmistakable 



98 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

signs of the fearful ravages which the eruptions 
have made, appear in the immense beds of lava 
which in many places cover the earth to a great 
depth. From this point the crater of the vol- 
cano is visible, and as we look a river of molten 
lava is pouring forth and threatening to destroy 
the village at the foot of the mountain. Here, 
and at intervals along our road, are statues 
of priests and saints, their hands raised depre- 
catingly towards the dreaded volcano. 

On the 27th of August, A. D., 79, the first 
recorded eruption of Vesuvius took place. 
The first recorded eruption ; for there must have 
been eruptions before that, the streets of Pom- 
peii being paved with blocks of lava, so ancient 
that they are worn in ruts by the carriage 
wheels, and may now be seen just as they 
were buried on that fatal day. The crater 
poured forth a flood of lava, which ilowed over 
the city of Herculaneum, and buried it sud- 
denly and forever from sight. At the same 
time a cloud of water, pumice-stone and ashes 
arose from the volcano, and, floating over a dis- 
tance of eight miles, fell upon Pompeii, the 



POMPEII. 99 

abode of wealth, luxury, taste and crime. Of 
the early history of this city little is known, 
although the discoveries which have been made 
in its exhumed portions tell too plainly of a 
state of morals which must have rivalled that 
of Sodom and Gomorrah, and sufficiently ex- 
plain why God should have, in this singular 
manner, blotted it from the world. 

In the year 1748, a peasant who lived above 
this city of the dead, determined to sink a well 
in his garden, and thus accidentally discovered 
a painted chamber, filled with statues and other 
objects of art. Since then the work of exhuma- 
tion has gone on at intervals, until about one- 
fourth of the city is uncovered. And here, let 
me remark, in order to correct an erroneous im- 
pression which I had before I saw Pompeii, and 
which others may have shared with me, that in 
visiting it, you do not go down into a cellar. 
The city was buried in ashes, and all that is re- 
quired is to cart them out, and the streets ap- 
pear just as they were eighteen centuries ago. 
Indeed the whole is so natural, and so like an 
inhabited city, that you feel as if you had no 



100 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

right there, and that the inhabitants would re- 
turn in a few moments, and call you to an ac- 
count for your intrusion. With Herculaneum 
it is different. There you do go down into a 
cellar, and have to carry a lamp with you. 
That city was destroyed by lava, and it is a 
work of the greatest difficulty to cut away the 
solid rock. At Pompeii, even, the exhumation 
is not carried forward very rapidly, and it is 
thought that there are stores of wealth and 
curiosities yet to be discovered. When some 
great dignitary arrives at Naples, the King has 
a new house or two disinterred, and thus the 
work proceeds. 

About three miles of wall, of great solidity 
and strength, have been traced out. It is built 
of immense slabs of lava, laid up without 
cement, and having perfect joints, which are 
sometimes dovetailed together. This absence 
of cement is one of the characteristics of Italian 
architecture, the stones of some of the noblest 
and most splendid mansions, which have stood 
for ages, being thus laid up without it. 

My first visit was to the ancient amphi- 



AMPHITHEATRE. 101 

theatre, which stands in the south-western angle 
of the city. It is built in the form of an ellipse, 
four hundred and thirty by three hundred and 
thirty-five feet. It could hold about ten thou- 
sand persons, and has eighty or ninety vomitories 
or entrances. It is said that, at the time of the 
eruption, this theatre was filled with a throng, 
who readily made their escape into the country. 
Retracing our steps, we stand within the streets 
of the city, which are usually narrow. They 
are paved with blocks of lava, which are every- 
where Avorn into deep ruts by the chariot 
wheels. The Russ pavement, so much talked 
about, was an old idea in Pompeii, as were also 
the raised stepping-stones, for the convenience 
of pedestrians wishing to cross the streets dur- 
ing a shower. Often there is a narrow foot- 
path of mosaic or stucco. 

As the ashes which buried Pompeii are re- 
moved, the ancient appearance of the city is at 
once restored, so that one feels that he is look- 
ing upon the same scenes from which the in- 
habitants fled in terror, nearly 1,800 years ago. 
The walls of many of the houses are nearly en- 



102 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

tire, showing every room and garden as they 
appeared when the city was destroyed. It is 
impossible to describe the emotions with which 
one passes through these silent and deserted 
streets, houses, and temples. The very man- 
ners and customs of the people may be distinct- 
ly read, and we seem to be introduced into their 
homes and see how they lived, and what were 
their pleasures and business. Here are streets 
of stores, in which merchants trafficked and grew 
rich. Here are wine- shops, the bottles still un- 
broken, the name of the owner over the door, 
the marble-topped tables (no new idea at our 
restaurants) at which his customers sat, and the 
very marks of the wine-glasses still upon them. 
Here are private houses with beautiful gardens 
and fountains, kitchens, dining-rooms, and sleep- 
ing-apartments. Here are floors of rich mosaic, 
as perfect as when it was first laid. Here are 
frescoes, and marble statuary, and exquisite 
carvings, showing a degree of art and skill un- 
surpassed at the present day. Here are the 
temples where the people worshipped, the idols 
to which they sacrificed, and the altars on which 



TRAGIC THEATRE. 103 

they left their offerings. Often the name of the 
owner is upon his door-post, and we can see 
where Sallust lived, and where the wealthy Dio- 
mede and his family had their home and their 
graves. 

Immediately behind the barracks, which are 
tasteful and convenient accommodations for the 
soldiers of Pompeii, stands a Grand Tragic Thea- 
tre, built in a semi-circular form, upon the slope 
of a hill, open to the air, and facing the sea. 
Every part of it is lined with Parian marble, 
and although most of the decorations were re- 
moved, we can still form an idea of its ancient 
splendor. It could seat about 5,000 persons, 
and many of the seats still retain their numbers 
and divisions, showing that modern janitors and 
ushers have no new ideas in this respect. The 
ladies had seats separated from the rest of the 
audience, and (significant fact !) immediately be- 
hind them was the police officer. 

Most of the shops of Pompeii were of a single 
story, open to the street, and closed with a slid- 
ing shutter. . In front was a counter of stone 
or brick, elevated by three steps, the better to 



104 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

display the goods. Bakers' shops liad small 
. ovens at one end. Drinking saloons were com- 
mon. A goat indicated a milk-shop. A picture 
of two men carrying a large bottle, suggested 
where wine was sold. Two men fighting was 
the sign of a gladiatorial school — unless they 
had primary elections in those days, and taught 
the art of governing the people by rowdies and 
shoulder-hitters. The school-master's sign was 
a man whipping a boy, who was trussed up 
upon another boy's back, showing that for Young 
Pompeii they had severer discipline than moral 
suasion. 

The dwelling-houses of Pompeii were mostly 
upon one floor, so that one is a type of all, ex- 
cepting the additions which taste or wealth 
might suggest. The ground-floor is the princi- 
pal part of the house. You enter through an 
unassuming gateway into a hollow square, where 
are usually fountains, statuary, and Mosaic pave- 
ments. Around this court are the apartments 
of the family. There is the boudoir of the lady, 
the library of the husband, a cozy dining-room, 
and there, under fanciful columns, where th§ 



DIOMED. 105 

vines crept upon trellis- work, is the table around 
which the family gathered to take their ease. 

That the Ponipeians were fond of bathing, is 
evident from the fact that most perfect arrange- 
ments are everywhere met with for supplying 
the city with water. Splendid marble bath- 
tubs, vast bathing-houses, substantial aqueducts, 
pipes underlying the city, with faucets, <fcc., like 
our Croton or Bidgewood, indicate the degree of 
comfort enjoyed in this respect. 

One of the most interesting houses in the city 
lies just out of the Herculaneum gate. It is the 
villa of Diomed, one of the famous characters in 
Bui wer's novel of "The Last Days of Pompeii.' J 
His house is three stories high, and contains 
magnificent suites of rooms. In the cellar were 
found the skeletons of the family, seventeen in 
number. Near this is a house called the villa 
of Cicero, on one of the lower stones of which is 
written, " Sea and fresh water baths, by Marcus 
Crassus Frugius." Some of the houses you feel 
disinclined to enter, for it seems as if the family 
were only absent on a visit, and a figure of a 
dog seems ready to fly at you, with " Cave canem" 

G 



106 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

(beware of the clog) written upon the Mosaic 
pavement. But you are reassured at the house 
of the vestals by the word " Salve" (welcome). 

That the arts had attained great perfection 
in Pompeii, is evident. The Museum at Naples, 
devoted to Pompeian relics, contains clothing, 
bread, fruits, lamps, statues in bronze and mar- 
ble, dining-sets, paintings, sculptures, &c. The 
sculptures abundantly testify what life and mor- 
als in Pompeii were, and one may easily guess 
why it was selected to share the fate of Sodom. 
The decorations of the houses, even the jewelry 
which women wore, the painting and sculpture 
now hidden from the public eye, are said to 
evince a degree of vice, sensuality, and obsceni- 
ty that rivals the cities of the plains. They evi- 
dently worked iniquity with greediness, and 
realized the portrait of heathenism given by the 
Apostle Paul in his Epistle to the Komans. 
Everything about the ruins tells of the sudden- 
ness with which the calamity came upon them. 
There stands a block of marble, half sculptured, 
and the tools thrown hastily down around it; 
here is money in the till, and there is freshly 



THE OVERTHROW. 107 

plastered mortar, with the down stroke of the 
trowel only half completed. 

Near one of the theatres is the temple of Isis, 
with its private staircase, by which the priest 
entered the image and worked the oracle. The 
winking and weeping Madonnas of the present 
age are no new ideas. At one of the gates a 
Roman soldier was found, who remained at his 
post, careless of threatened danger, faithful to 
the last. It requires no great stretch of imagi- 
nation to repeople these silent streets ; to recall 
the hour when the theatre resounded with the 
applause of thousands ; when the temples ech- 
oed the sounds of worship ; when the shops were 
filled with merry customers; when that court 
of justice was the scene of many an eloquent 
appeal; when the thoroughfares were brilliant 
with processions, and alive with bustling citi- 
zens; when these houses were the abodes of 
wealth, taste, and most fearful crime. 

But in an hour this splendor vanished. Yonder 
mountain quaked, and its terrible throes and 
dreadful groans gave appalling evidences of the 
coming calamity. Then flashed up the long 



108 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

pent-up fires. The molten lava, as a deep, rapid 
river, poured forth its desolating streams upon 
Herculaneuni. A cloud, dark and ominous, 
moved towards Pompeii, and fell, and for 1800 
years it has laid in its tomb — a lost and buried 
city. 

Retracing our steps towards Naples, we pause 
at Herculaneuni, and, following a guide, descend 
to the theatre. It is strange, in that deep and 
dark solitude, where everything carries you back 
to the past, to hear the tread of active life about 
you, and to ascend from the graves of the dead 
city to the realities of the present. You have 
been carried back over a period of 1800 years. 
It is difficult to realize that you are living in the 
nineteenth century. You carry with you those 
strange thoughts to your evening meditation, 
and when lulled to slumber by the soft music 
of the sea, are still dreaming of Diomed, Sal- 
lust, and Cicero. You wake to see around you 
a city full of striking contrasts. 

Narrow streets, up which a donkey can 
scarcely climb, run out from broad and well- 
paved thoroughfares. Three hundred churches, 



CONTRASTS. 109 

in a population of 365,000, filled with statuary 
of wondrous beauty, and superbly decorated, 
stand in the midst of filthy places, and are sur- 
rounded with squalid beggars. 

The lazzaroni sleeps in his basket, or in the 
streets, or under the shadow of a palace, and 
eats his macaroni at the market-place, and dozes 
away his life in inaction. 

The peasant mounts his donkey, or crowds 
into the rickety cabriolet, while the noble dashes 
by in his carriage. The cottage and the palace 
— the people and the priest — the oppressed 
and the oppressor, are the terrible contrasts of 
Naples. You are pointed to relics of supersti- 
tion of the most puerile character. You see 
crowds of ignorant and idle people amusing 
themselves with puppet shows, or listening to 
the trash of a strolling singer or improvisitoire. 
But all the noble, earnest and honorable in- 
stincts of humanity are crushed out by a bigoted 
priesthood, and a cruel and tyrannical govern- 
ment that is wholly at its bidding. Yet in 
these men, now oppressed and down-trodden, 
the government will at length find the elements 



110 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

of revolution, which will burst forth with a 
destructive power from which there will be no 
escape. 

I was credibly informed, that in the Neapoli- 
tan kingdom there were one hundred thousand 
families, most of whom were the respectable 
portion of society, who were deprived of the 
privileges of a liberal education, from suspicions 
of their political principles. The object of the 
Government was, to prevent the spread of he- 
retical opinions by cutting off the children from 
the power which education might give them to 
extend and perpetuate the ideas received from 
their fathers. When such remedies as these are 
resorted to, it is not difficult to imagine what 
will be the end of a government already hated 
and despised, or of the besotted priesthood, 
who use it as the instrument of their own am- 
bition. 



VI. 

ROME. 

A CROWD of passengers, affording the usual 
contrasts of a Mediterranean steamer, stood 
upon the deck of the Visuvio, awaiting, for four 
weary hours, the signal for her departure. Our 
passports, with four visas, for which we had 
paid the usual extortionate prices, had been 
brought on board by an officer of the Govern- 
ment, who called off our names, pronounc- 
ing them with so thorough an Italian accent, 
that we were in doubt whether we were really 
the Signor and Signora intended. However, 
we stepped up at a venture, and were permitted 
to remain on board. At length everything was 
ready, and as the ship shot out from her moor- 
ings, we stood upon the deck and gazed on 
the scene before us, recalling the past few days 



112 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

like some exciting, but beautiful dream. As 
we sailed up the bay, and evening deepened 
around us her sombre shadows, Vesuvius was 
lighted up with its volcanic fires; and when 
the city of Naples faded from our view, like 
some beautiful vision, the burning mountain 
was still our landmark, pointing out to us 
where lie the buried cities of other ages, and 
where, perchance, before another year, the earth 
shall open to swallow up the cities of the pres- 
ent age. 

There is a charm about Naples which holds 
one spell-bound, and the scholar walks under 
its full power. Yonder is the Sybil's Cave, 
whose romantic beauty Virgil has rendered im- 
mortal in his song. And there is Lake Avernus, 
upon whose gloomy shore the ghosts of the de- 
parted were said to wander; and, above all, 
there is the spot where Paul landed on his way 
to Rome, and we are soon to be amid scenes 
upon which he looked, and among which he 
was an actor. 

A night is spent in dreams of the past and 
the future, and morning finds us at Civita Vec- 



CIVITA VECCHIA. 113 

chia, waiting for permission to go on shore, and 
when on shore, impatiently anxious to escape 
from one of the most infamous dens of Italy. 

Every conceivable arrangement is made at 
this place for cheating travellers on their way 
to Rome. The ship does not land you, but 
leaves you to the tender mercies of the boat- 
men. A sailor must be paid for putting your 
baggage in the boat; the steward and stew- 
ardess must be paid for neglecting you during 
the whole voyage ; men must be paid for car- 
rying your baggage to the Custom-house ; officers 
must be feed for inspecting it ; one for setting 
it out of doors, and another for putting it on 
the omnibus, which demands an exorbitant 
price for conveying you to the depot, where 
your baggage is set down at the foot of a flight 
of stairs, up which a porter must be paid for 
carrying it, and another for putting it on the 
cars. It has become a proverb that there is more 
cheating done and more lies told at Civita Vec- 
chia than in all the rest of Italy ; and we only 
wonder how so many persons are induced to go 
to Rome, when they have to pass through this 
6* 



114 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

purgatory of extortion. At length, after eight 
hours spent in this nest of thieves fand pick- 
pockets, we are permitted to depart. The rail- 
road, which has been opened but a few months, 
skirts the shores of the Mediterranean, and 
passes through a country which, with proper 
enterprise, might be made a beautiful garden. 
When former Popes were applied to for per- 
mission to build this road, they declined on 
the ground that then the diligence drivers — 
some half a dozen vagabonds — would have noth- 
ing to do; and so for many years travellers 
spent from eight to ten hours in journeying 
forty miles. The present Pope, however, be- 
came convinced, by some miracle, that it would 
not ruin the Church to have a railway to Koine, 
and so it was finished some two or three months 
before our visit. At last we came in sight of 
Rome, and we landed at the station just as the 
rays of the setting sun were gilding the dome 
of St. Peter's. 

Rome ! The Eternal City ! I cannot de- 
scribe the emotions which stirred within me, as 
I first stood within those walls, and felt that 



ROME AT LENGTH. 115 

the dreams of my youth were realized. We 
found excellent accommodations at the Hotel 
de l'Angleterre, not far from the famous Corso, 
the Broadway of Rome. Entering our chamber, 
we sat down to try and realize that we were in 
the midst of a city whose history goes back 
for more than seven hundred years before Christ, 
and which, both as the metropolis of the Roman 
Empire and the centre of the Papal Church, 
has been more connected with the fate of na- 
tions than any other. 

It was the evening of the feast of Corpus 
Christi, and torch-light processions, with ban- 
ners and music, and long lines of priests and 
monks, were passing beneath our window, and 
giving us palpable assurance that we were in a 
Catholic city. 

Roma la Grandiosa. Let us place ourselves 
under the care of Stephano, a most faithful 
guide, recommended to us by Luigi, at Naples, 
(we shall find him every morning, with a car- 
riage, to begin our day's explorations,) and go 
forth, to pass over the grave of Rome's former 
glory, and to gaze upon the monuments and 



116 IMPRESSIONS ABEOAD. 

mausoleums of the mighty dead. Rome lies 
mostly upon the slope of three or four of the 
most westerly of the seven hills, and if we 
stand upon the tower, on the summit of the 
Capitoline hill, we can take in the general fea- 
tures of the city at a glance. Just south of us 
are the ruins of the Forum, some fifteen or 
twenty feet below the present elevation of 
Home, but from which the rubbish has been 
removed, so that we may see the pavement 
which Caesar, Cicero and the other celebrated 
men of their age once trod, and the lofty columns 
against which, perhaps, they once leaned. Near 
the Forum is the Arch of Septimus Severus, 
erected in the year 205, by the Roman Senate, 
in his honor. Not far away stands the Arch of 
Titus, erected to commemorate the return of his 
army from the destruction of Jerusalem, and the 
most beautiful of all the arches of Rome. It is 
built of white marble, and is ornamented with 
bas-reliefs of the priests bearing the vessels of 
the temple, and walking as captors in the train 
of the victorious army. Looking still to the 
south, we see the Arch of Constantine spanning 



A PANORAMA. 117 

the Via Appia, covered with wondrous illustra- 
tions of the victories of the nation under the 
dominion of the Emperor. As the eye sweeps 
around, it takes in the blackened wall of the 
Coliseum, and then the Palatine hill, upon 
which stand the mighty ruins of the Palace of 
the Caesars. The walls of the city were built 
A. D. 271, and are almost thirteen miles in cir- 
cuit. The material of which they were con- 
structed is the ancient brick, mixed with stone. 
Following the outline of the wall, until we look 
westward, we pass a series of ruins, domes, 
towers, arches, monuments, palaces, and churches, 
until at last we pause to admire the wondrous 
magnificence of St. Peter's, seated upon the 
Vatican hill, and surrounded by the vast ranges 
of buildings which make up the palace of the 
Pope. Behind are distant ranges of hills, and 
the peaks of the Volscian mountains; and to 
the south are the vast undulations of the Cam- 
pagna, a plain ninety miles long by twenty- 
seven broad ; while, nestling among the cloud- 
capped hills, are beautiful villages, towns, and 
ancient ruins, and scenes of historic interest, 



118 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

wliicli carry you back to ages almost lost in the 
shadows of time. 

Our first visit was to the Church, or Basilica, 
of St. John Lateran, for the purpose of seeing 
a procession in which the Pope was to take 
part. Next to St. Peter's, this is, perhaps, the 
most interesting church in Rome, because it is 
here that the Pope is crowned, and one of the 
first ceremonies he performs is that of taking 
possession of this venerable church, dating back 
to the fourth century. Just opposite is the 
Babtistry, built by Constantine, in which tradi- 
tion says that he was baptized, and where 
stands an urn of green basalt, from which, for 
many ages, the ceremony of baptism has been 
performed . Taking our position in front of the 
magnificent building, we awaited the arrival of 
the Pope, and watched the cardinals as they 
drove up. Each cardinal has two carriages for 
himself and his attendants. The horses are fine 
animals, of the ancient Roman breed, and their 
trappings are covered with silver and gold. To 
each carriage were a driver and three footmen, 
wearing short clothes, white silk stockings, 



THE POPE. 119 

knee and shoe-buckles, and cocked hats pro- 
fusely trimmed with silver lace, with which 
their vests and coats were also lined. The 
cardinals, as they stepped out in their rustling 
silks, looked, with all their wealth and splen- 
dor, more like princes than like officers of a 
Church professing to imitate Him who was 
meek and lowly, and who said, " My Kingdom 
is not of this world ; " and their whole appear- 
ance was in striking contrast to the beggars 
who might be seen around. 

But yonder, escorted by files of soldiery, and 
preceded by a full band of music, comes the 
Pope. His carriage, drawn by six coal-black 
horses, is a perfect .,'• wonder." The eye is 
dazzled with the sheen of scarlet and gold, out- 
shining the trappings of any other monarch on 
earth, as he passes, by a private gate, into the 
church, where, already, a vast crowd are gath- 
ered, kept in check by lines of soldiery and the 
ever-present Swiss G-uard, the chosen and fa- 
vored attendants of the Pope, and the detesta- 
tion of the people. The church itself is a noble 
edifice, glittering with gold and precious stones, 



120 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

and adorned with paintings and statuary of rare 
beauty. Down the vast aisles, the rich peals of 
the organ swelling gloriously through the mag- 
nificent arches, advances the procession of the 
Pope, who comes towards the high altar, seated 
upon a chair, which is borne upon the shoulders 
of six or eight men, accompanied by priests hav- 
ing crucifixes and other insignia, and passing by 
ranks of kneeling soldiers and people, upon 
whom he graciously bestows his blessing, by 
making in the air the sign of the cross. Poor 
man ! He is dreadfully tossed about while 
being thus carried along, and he must feel very 
uncomfortable. He himself says that it makes 
him sea-sick, and it certainly makes us sick to 
see him. The ceremonies which followed were 
of the most imposing of the Catholic ritual, and 
we turned away from them with sorrow, that 
men should be able to palm upon the people 
such absurd mummeries as a part of religious 
worship. JSTor was this feeling diminished when 
we were led through the cloisters and the 
museum connected with this church. Guided 
by a priest, we were shown the table upon 



RELICS. 121 

which the Last Supper was laid. It was en- 
closed in a glass case, and has, somehow, won- 
derfully survived the destruction of Jerusalem. 
We thought that it was burnt up, with many 
other relics, at that time, but it seems not, for it 
is at this church, properly identified and on ex- 
hibition. There, also, is a column of Pilate's 
house, and a pillar which was split in two when 
the veil of the temple was rent. There is also 
a marble slab — the top of a table — with a hole 
in it about an inch and a half in diameter, and 
this is the story about it : There was once a 
priest, who doubted that the holy wafer did 
really contain the body of Christ, and, while 
holding it over the table, he let it fall. A 
miracle ensued. The wafer was so heavy that 
it fell quite through this marble slab, and made 
the hole we see, and then stuck against the leg 
of the table. Of course, the doubting priest 
was convinced — how could he be otherwise? 
There, too, are the stairs up which Christ 
walked on His way to Pilate's house — and how 
these were preserved from the destruction of 
Jerusalem also puzzles us. If you wish to 



122 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

ascend these steps you are required to go on 
your knees. As our faith in their identity was 
not excessive, we did not make the ascent. 
Here Luther was climbing when he thought of 
that passage of Scripture, " We are justified by 
faith" reflection upon which sowed in his mind 
the first seeds of the Reformation. In this 
museum, also, is the marble upon which the 
soldiers threw lots for Christ's raiment, and 
many other such notable curiosities. 

Leaving the church, and passing down the 
Via St. Giovanni, by the venerable relics of the 
Claudian Aqueduct, we approach the vast 
blackened and shattered walls of the Coliseum, 
whose shadows carry us backward for ages, 
through scenes of wondrous tragic interest. It 
was built in the reign of Vespasian and Titus, 
72 and 80, A. D. At its dedication, five thou- 
sand wild beasts were let loose in the arena, and 
slaughtered, and for one hundred days games 
were held in honor of its completion. For four 
hundred years after, it was the theatre of gla- 
diatorial spectacles, and cruel and bitter persecu- 
tions. Of late years, since it ceased to be used 



THE COLISEUM. 123 

for such spectacles, its stones have been taken 
for building materials — many of the noblest 
palaces and other edifices of Rome being erected, 
in part, from its ruins — and yet it seems to 
have lost none of its vast proportions, although 
it is said that fully two-thirds of its original 
material are gone. Its form is an ellipse, 584 
by 468 feet; the height of the outer wall is 157 
feet ; the area covered by it is nearly six acres, 
and 100,000 people could sit in the vast tiers of 
seats, and look down upon the scenes below. 
The sight is overwhelming, as you stand upon 
the very spot where many a martyr suffered, 
look up at the vast arches which rise above 
you, and to the walls blackened by the storms 
of ages, and think what tales they might tell 
were they endowed with speech. There is the 
very arch through which the emperors entered ; 
and the vaulted passages leading to the cells 
in which the wild beasts were confined, and 
from which, when maddened with hunger, they 
were let into the arena upon helpless men, and ten- 
der and gentle women, whose only crime was a 
profession of the religion of Christ. But these 



124 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

scenes have passed, a cross is reared upon the 
spot, flowers are growing there, and around the 
arena are placed the statues, usual in Catholic 
churches, representing the passion of our Lord. 
Just under the shadows of the Coliseum stands 
a vast ruin, s shapeless mass, amid which is a 
garden, green with herbage, and beautiful with 
flowers and fruits. It stands upon the Palatine 
Hill, and is about a mile and a half in circuit. 
It is the ancient palace of the Caesars, built by 
Augustus upon the site of the houses of Cicero, 
Hortensius, Catiline and Claudius. Caligula 
enlarged it; Nero added to it, and Titus im- 
proved and beautified it. Here and there, amid 
the mass of arches, walls and columns, may be 
found a room, whose size and form indicate 
the former glory of the palace : but over it all 
the ivy climbs, and amid its ruins the owl hoots 
and the satyr dances. 

Those who have made the ruins of Eome 
their study, divide them into three eras : 

The first is the Kingly period, dating back to 
752—510, B. C. Of the ruins of this period 
the most ancient is the Cloaca Maxima, a vast 



MAMERTINE PRISON. 125 

sewer built not long after the foundation of the 
city, and being now about 2,500 years old. A 
fine arch of this sewer is seen near the river, 
with a spring of water just by it, at which the 
women wash their clothes. The Mamertine 
prison, to which allusions may be found in the 
works of Sallust, also belongs to this period. 
A monk conducts us down a flight of twenty- 
eight steps into a dark subterranean chamber, 
beneath which is a small cell built of huge 
stones, which are held together by iron clamps. 
The entrance was formerly an aperture in the 
roof through which prisoners were let down. 
In this cell Jugurtha was starved to death ; and 
here, by the order of Cicero, the accomplices of 
Catiline were strangled. Here, probably, Paul 
was confined, for this was the State prison, and 
he was a State prisoner. Here, too, the church 
tradition says that Peter was imprisoned — 
though there is no scriptural ground for sup- 
posing that Peter was ever at Rome — and the 
priests point out the very pillar to which he 
was chained, and the spring of water which 
burst up when he wished to baptize the jailer 



126 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

and his family. There is even a print of his 
face in the solid rock, when Peter fell back 
against the wall, and left upon it his exact por- 
trait — a new phase of lithographic art ! From 
this cell Peter escaped, the monks tell you, and 
ran to a church, where you find a monk ready 
to accept a fee for showing you the spot where 
the Apostle met the Saviour, who left the print 
of his feet in a piece of stone, while telling him 
that he must go back and be ^crucified. The 
priests rather spoil the romance of the affair, 
however, by telling you that this is not the 
" real original " stone, as they say in New York, 
but only a copy, and you are rather inclined to 
believe, that those who can carve out so perfect 
a representation of the feet, might also have 
cut out Peter's profile. 

Of the second period, the Consular, there are 
less interesting relics ; but there are some, how- 
ever, with which all are doubtless familiar. The 
Appian Way is one of these, a road about four- 
teen feet broad, paved with smooth square 
stones, which are still in perfect order, after 
having been travelled over for two thousand 



THE PANTHEON. 127 

years. This was the great southern military 
road. By it Paul must have travelled, and from 
this point he must have caught his first view of 
Rome, and looked upon the many temples, 
towers, palaces and columns, the ruins of which 
still stand, like monuments of the greatness of 
the city. 

The period of the Roman Empire, extending 
from 30 B. C. to 476 A. C, is richest in the 
memorials now existing in Rome. During the 
reign of Augustus, the wealth, splendor and 
power of the city exceeded any former period ; 
and palaces, theatres, and public edifices and 
works, whose ruins still remain, were built, in 
numbers and grandeur surpassing anything 
ever before attempted. His greatest work was 
the Pantheon, erected B. C. 26, and it is still 
in wonderful preservation. Its proportions are 
exceedingly beautiful ; and in spite of all the 
ravages of time — in spite of the fierce assaults 
of the Gothic nations, which have left their 
dreadful traces all over Rome, the Pantheon 
stands, to-day, perfect and entire. Its portico, 
which has been pronounced faultless by the 



128 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

noblest architects, is composed of sixteen Corin- 
thian pillars of granite, with capitals of marble, 
and is one hundred and ten feet long by forty- 
four deep. 

Passing through the bronze doors of the main 
building, affording an opening of thirty-nine by 
nineteen feet, we enter the vast solitude within. 
The building is 142 feet in diameter, and is 
lighted by an opening in the dome, 143 feet 
from the pavement. The walls are 20 feet in 
thickness, and the pavement is of porphyry and 
other rich stones. 

The Pantheon has changed from a heathen 
temple to a Christian church ; the niches, which 
once held the statues of the gods, are now filled 
with pictures and images of saints, and services 
are constantly performed there by the priests of 
Home. 

But we cannot linger here, for eviry stone 
has its story, and we wander amid the terrible 
ruins of this stricken city, as in a dream. Here 
is the spot upon which was held the interview 
between Coriolanus and his mother, when she 
pleaded with him to spare the city in which he 



ANTIQUITIES. 129 

first saw the light. Yonder is the tomb of 
Ponrpey, and in that palace is his statue, of 
which Shakspeare writes: 

"E'en at the base of Pompey's statue, 
Which all the while ran blood, 
Great Caesar fell." 

And antiquarians say that this is the very statue 
referred to, and that it was removed to this pal- 
ace from the place where the assassination oc- 
curred. Here is the tomb of the Horatii and 
the Curiatii, and in yonder field they fought and 
died. That magnificent mausoleum, on the Ap- 
pian Way, was erected more than nineteen 
hundred years ago, in memory of Cecilia Me- 
tella, the wife of Crassus, and it is still in per- 
fect preservation. Passing by the great Circus, 
where chariot races took place, and in which 
300,000 people could find room, let us return 
to the gity, and visit the Koman Forum, built 
upon the slope and at the foot of the Capitoline 
Hill. Here is the modern capitol, erected upon 
the ruins of the ancient. At the top of the stairs 
are two colossal statues of Castor and Pollux, 
standing by the side of their horses. Near by 
7 



ISO IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

is one of Constantine, found in his baths, and in 
the centre of this piazza stands the splendid 
bronze statue of Marcus Aurelius. Michael 
Angelo was a great admirer of it, and by his 
directions it was removed to this place from the 
Lateran church, where, at the coronation of Ri- 
enzi, the Last of the Tribunes, it was made to 
do duty as a fountain, wine spouting from one 
nostril and water from the other. 

Before we enter the museum of the Capitol, 
let us turn aside, for a moment, to look at the 
Tarpeian Rock, so famous in the early history of 
Rome — 

" Tarpeian, fittest goal of Treason's race ? 
The promontory whence the traitor's leap 
Cured all ambition ! '' 

It is surrounded by buildings, and upon it is a 
garden, from which I plucked a flower as a sou- 
venir. At its base the soil has collected so as 
to detract considerably from its height. 

But let us enter the museum of the Capitol. 
It is filled with the relics of ancient Rome, and 
presents to us some of the master-pieces of her 
greatest artists and sculptors. Here stands a 



THE CAPITOL. 131 

colossal statue of Julius Caesar, and there are 
busts of Cicero, Brutus, Poinpey, Cato, and all 
the orators, statesmen, and poets, of the golden 
age of Rome. Here are the creations of Phidias 
and Praxiteles, and other artists of that day, 
whose works indicate a degree of refinement 
which shows that age to have been anything 
but an era of barbarism. There is that world- 
renowned statue of the Dying Gladiator, which, 
once seen, can never be forgotten. Byron has 
painted this wondrous work of art in verses 
which almost rival in beauty the statue itself: 

" I see before me the Gladiator lie : 
He leans upon his hand; his manly brow 
Consents to Death, but conquers agony ; 
And his droop' d head sinks gradually low, 
And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow 
From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, 
Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now 
The arena swims around him : he is gone, 

Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won. 
He heard it, but he heeded not ; his eyes 
Were with his heart, and that was far away. 
He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize ; 
But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, 
There were his young barbarians all at play ; 
There was their Dacian mother ; he, their sire, 
Butchered to make a Roman holiday." 

Childe Harold. 

In this museum are the sculptures of which 



132 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Pliny spoke with so much admiration; the 
Venus of the Capitol; the bronze wolves and 
ducks found in some ruins near the Tarpeian 
Rock; the famous statue of Antinous, dis- 
covered in Hadrian's villa; and splendid fres- 
coes and paintings, representing the early scenes 
of Roman history. 

Leaving these scenes, we pause to look at the 
famous church built upon the ruins of the Tem- 
ple of Jupiter Capitolanus, dating back to the 
fourth century. It is filled with paintings and 
statuary, but its chief attraction is a Doll, said 
to have been made by a pilgrim from a tree 
which grew upon the Mount of Olives, and 
painted by St. Luke while the maker was asleep. 
This doll is called the Bambino ; it is honored 
as one of the chief miracle-workers of Rome, 
and its shrine is decorated with many costly 
offerings. Strange stories are told of its power, 
especially in healing the maladies of children. 
Captivated by these tales, so the story goes, a 
Roman lady determined to have the doll always 
in her house, so that her children might remain 
in perfect health. Pretending that one of them 



THE BAMBINO. 133 

was ill, she had the doll brought to her house, 
and caused a fac simile of it to "be made — 
size, form, dress, everything was exactly imi- 
tated. The counterfeit she sent back to this 
church, where it was received with appropriate 
ceremonies, while the lady retained the genuine 
Bambino, and went to sleep happy in the belief 
that she was to have no more sickness among 
her children. In the middle of the night, the 
priests at the church were aroused by a knock- 
ing at the door, and opening, they found their 
little doll, the genuine Bambino, who had re- 
turned to her temple and her faithful servants. 
A wonderful image is this ! It has a carriage 
in which to take its airings, and on certain days 
little children act sacred dramas in its chapel. 
This is another of the "lying wonders of the 
man of sin," and we shall notice some others, 
quite as absurd and silly, by and by. We may 
visit the church of St. Maria Maggiore, and see 
a few rough planks, said to be the cradle of the 
infant Saviour ; or the church of St. Sebastian, 
and find the original marble upon which are the 
prints of His feet ! 



134 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

But, leaving these, let us ascend to the Pin- 
cian Hill, which Napoleon made into a splen- 
did drive, and see the nobility of Rome as they 
come out for an afternoon ride, and then, walk- 
ing up the Corso and the streets diverging from 
it, and gazing upon the fountains, statues, 
churches, temples, palaces, convents, and monas- 
teries, which rise on every hand, we shall form 
some just conception of Rome, and acknowledge 
the propriety with which the Italians call it 
u La Grandiosa? The suburbs of Rome, be- 
sides the numerous ruins you meet at every 
step, contain some beautiful villas. One of the 
most perfect of these gems of domestic splen- 
dor, the villa Albano, is nestling in a grove 
of exquisite beauty, and is filled with rich 
paintings and statuary. It is a grateful relief 
to turn in thither and wander through those 
splendid halls and corridors, or saunter through 
grounds laid out with most exquisite taste, lis- 
tening to the songs of the birds and the play of 
the fountains, scenting the sweet breath of the 
flowers and the shrubbery, and sheltering our- 
selves from the fierce beams of the summer's 



VILLA ALBANO, 135 

sun beneath the green, wide-spreading branches 
of innumerable trees. How marked the con- 
trast to the streets of the city, where everything 
tells us of greatness and glory fast passing away 
forever. Yet, even in this quiet retreat, poverty 
stares us in the face, for at the gate is a group 
of wretched beggars, who piteously call upon 
us for alms. Alas ! the spell of the destroyer is 
upon this once mighty city, and its destiny is 
clearly foretold in that Word which has written 
its history, and which points to its overthrow, 
when the rich men and the great men shall cry — 
Babylon is fallen, and has become the habita- 
tion of devils, the abode of every foul spirit, and 
the cage of every unclean and hateful bird. 



VII. 

EOME AND ITS CHURCHES. 

ROME is a city of churches. And as day 
after day introduced me to some new won- 
der, I began to realize the description given of 
it among' the apocalyptic visions of John at 
Patmos. Koine, the "Mistress of the "World," 
in her greatness and giory as a heathen city, 
was font a type of what she was to foe as the 
seat of Papal power and authority. Her splen- 
did temples, built for the worship of false gods, 
have crumbled to dust, only to be replaced by 
temples as costly in which the magnificent cere- 
monies of the Pagan ritual may be reproduced 
in the Christian worship. 

To a population of one hundred and eighty 
thousand souls, there are three hundred and 
sixty-four churches, of which seven are Basili- 



THE CHURCH AT ROME. 137 

cas, capable of containing from five to fifty 
thousand persons. Connected with the churches 
and other religious establishments, are four 
thousand five hundred priests and monks, and 
nineteen hundred nuns, giving a priest to about 
every forty, and a nun to about every one 
thousand persons. During the first three cen- 
turies of the Christian era, the church which 
had been established at Koine (probably by 
some of those persons who were at Jerusalem 
during the Pentecostal season, who are spoken 
of as u strangers of Eome," and who were after- 
wards confirmed in the faith and order of the 
gospel by the Apostle Paul) was called upon to 
endure fierce and bloody persecutions. When 
Paul came to this great city as the Apostle to the 
Grentiles, Nero was the Emperor, under whom 
commenced those bloody persecutions which 
continued through three centuries, and only 
ceased when Constantine became a convert to 
the gospel, and gave to the Christian religion 
his imperial protection. During all this long 
period, Christianity could rear but few monu- 
ments of its glory and power, and hence it is 
7* 



138 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

that the crypts of ancient churches are seldom, 
if ever, found to date back beyond the fourth 
century, at which time the Church had begun 
to feel the growing power of the Papacy, and 
to experience the truth that the smile of the 
Caesars was the frown of Christ. Already, at 
that time, there had begun to be introduced one 
and another of those forms and ceremonies 
copied from the Pagan ritual, to meet the de- 
mands for imposing and dramatic forms which 
might appeal to the senses and teach truth by 
signs and symbols. When, therefore, the re- 
searches of the antiquarians of Rome bring to 
light, as they occasionally do, some Christian 
temple, with general features which now ap- 
pear in the Papal churches, it but proves what 
all ecclesiastical historians admit, that as early 
as the fourth century, the evil of which the 
Apostles warned the churches had become ap- 
parent, and that the Mystery of Iniquity was 
even then working, to develop itself more fully 
during the seventh century, in the recognition 
of the Cardinal Bishop of Rome as the Sov- 
ereign Pontiff, and, during the eighth century, 



POPERY. 139 

in the crowning this Pontiff a temporal Prince, 
thus uniting the Keys of the Church with the 
Sword of the State, and so consummating that 
unh allowed union which must everywhere, and 
in all times, work out evil, and only evil, both 
to the Church and the State. For a political 
church, whether Catholic or Protestant, must 
necessarily be more or less corrupt — and Rome 
is no exception to this rule. 

However, I do not propose to argue upon 
this subject, but to tell you what I saw of the 
splendid temples, which began to rise after the 
cessation of the persecutions, and which, in 
grandeur and magnificence, find their culmina- 
tion in that miracle of architectural splendor, 
St. Peter's. 

Leaving our hotel and turning into the Corso, 
we ride leisurely through that great artery of 
the city, purposely seeking a circuitous route 
that we may see some of the strange contrasts 
which everywhere appear. As we leave the 
favorite resort of the fashionables of Rome, we 
catch a view of the shattered and blackened 
walls of the Coliseum ; and then, turning to- 



140 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

wards the Tiber, we enter the Jews' Quarter, 
a sad and dark corner of the city, reeking with 
filth and disease. Passing onward, the scene is 
strange and novel. Here and there women are 
at work, surrounded by half-clad children, who 
seem to have forgotten the use of water. Di- 
minutive donkeys, loaded with panniers filled 
wdth fruits and vegetables, are standing in the 
market-places. Smiths are busy at their sooty 
forges, or itinerant tinkers are seated before the 
doors of the liouses, patching up dilapidated 
pans and kettles. Girls with flowers, which they 
are arranging in bouquets, stand at temporary 
tables which they have set up at the corners of 
the streets. Slipshod Israelites, with packs of 
old clothes, or small boxes of jewelry, shuffle 
by. Wretched beggars, diseased and starving, 
stretch out their withered hands and ask for 
alms. Families, clad in the wild and fantastic 
garb of their native hills, who have come to sit 
as models for artists, are gathered upon the door- 
steps. Ever and anon there passes a procession 
of priests, with the symbols of their* worship ; 
or of nuns, with their quaint costumes and 



SIGHTS OF ROME, 141 

head-dresses, Irresistibly making you smile at 
their grotesque appearance, Here you meet 
with youthful students of some Koman college,, 
wearing their peculiar cassock and cap. There 
a band of Roman soldiers file by you, or a gen- 
darme turns up from a by-street, giving you an 
idea of the constant surveillance under which 
the city is kept by the Government. 

.Nat far from the Jews 7 Quarter stand the 
ruins of the Theatre of Pompey, and hard by 
is the spot where Caesar met his fate. Crossing 
the magnificent bridge of St. Angelo, between 
two rows of splendid statues, we see before us 
the ancient mausoleum of Hadrian, and the 
castle of St. Angelo. Ascending, through di- 
lapidated streets, towards the Vatican Hill, we 
at length reach the grand Piazza in front of St. 
Peter's, and looking up at that mountain of 
hewn stone T we feel (as all do) a sense of dis- 
appointment at the size and general appearance 
of that world-renowned structure, a feeling 
which, as you soon discover, is the result of lack 
of power in your mind to adapt itself at once 
to so stupendous a work of art, 



142 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

It is approached from the east through a 
piazza, bounded by semi-circular colonnades, 
in the centre of which stands the mate of 
the Column of Luxor, which we saw in the 
Place de Concorde at Paris. On either side of 
this are beautiful fountains, whose waters are 
playing night and day. The colonnades are 
themselves well worthy attention, and enclose 
an area whose diameter, in its widest point, is 
seven hundred and eighty-seven feet. The 
width of these colonnades is fifty-five feet ; they 
are supported by four rows of columns, forty- 
eight feet high, and stand sufficiently wide 
apart to admit between them two carriages 
abreast; the whole number of columns and 
pilasters is three hundred and forty-eight ; and 
upon the entablatures stand one hundred and 
ninety-two statues of saints, each twelve feet 
high. Passing through the piazza, you approach 
a flight of steps, at the bottom of which are 
colossal figures of Peter and Paul ; and here the 
colonnades terminate in two galleries, each three 
hundred and sixty feet long, leading to the ves- 
tibule of the church. This flight of steps is 



ST. PETER'S. 143 

one of the first objects which serve to convince 
you of the vastness of St. Peter's, for it seems 
to stand jnst at hand, and you imagine that its 
distance from the base of the ascent up which 
you are toiling, is not much greater than that 
which you have encountered in visiting other 
churches. Yet, as you advance, the church seems 
to be no nearer, and when you at length reach 
its door you find that you have had to walk 
about three hundred feet from the first step, 
and that since your carriage entered the piazza, 
you have passed over one-fourth of a mile. 
The steps are four hundred feet broad. The 
fagacle of the church is three hundred and 
seventy-nine feet long by one hundred feet 
high, ornamented with eight Corinthian columns 
ninety-two feet in length, and nearly nine feet 
in diameter. Thirteen colossal statues of Christ 
and the Apostles, eighteen feet high, stand upon 
the attic, and, diminished by distance, look only 
the height of ordinary men. 

Passing through the first entrance, we stand 
in the magnificent vestibule which is worthy of 
the glorious temple to which it leads. It is 



144 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

468 feet long, 66 high, and 50 feet wide. At 
either end, seeming in the distance only the size 
of life, are immense statues of Constantine and 
Charlemagne. Even here the mind is over- 
whelmed with the vastness of this portico, and 
with a foreshadowing of what is to burst upon 
it when one of those curtains is drawn aside, 
and we look upon the church itself It is im- 
possible to convey to your minds the emotions 
I felt when I beheld that wonderful scene, and 
which daily and hourly increased within me as 
I returned again and again from gazing upon one 
and another of the churches of Rome, beautiful 
and glorious as many of them are, but only 
seeming to freshen the wonderful sublimity of 
this mighty temple. Even Byron, whose heart 
seldom was stirred by religious emotions, seem- 
ed to find here a subject suited to his genius ; 
and though his thoughts are wrapped up in the 
gorgeous drapery of a poet's utterance, he has 
given to us a most correct idea of St. Peter's. 

" But thou, of temples old and altars new, 
Standest alone, with nothing like to thee ; 
Worthiest of God, the Holy, and the True. 
. Majesty, 



STATISTICAL. 145 

Power, Glory, Strength, and Beauty, all are aisled 

In this eternal ark of worship undefiled. 

Enter : its grandeur overwhelms thee not ; 

And why ? It is not lessened, but thy mind. 

Expanded by the genius of the spot, 

Has grown colossal, and can only find 

A fit abode wherein appear enshrined 

The hopes of immortality ; and thou 

Shalt one clay, if found worthy, so defined, 

See thy God face to face, as thou dost, now, 

His Holiest of Holies, nor be blasted by His brow. 

Thou movest — but increasing with the advance, 

Like climbing some great Alp, which still doth rise, 

Deceived by its gigantic elegance ; 

Yastness which grows, — but grows to harmonize — 

All musical in its immensities ; 

Bieh marbles,— richer paintings,— shrines where flames 

The lamp of Gold, — and haughty Dome which vies 

In air with Earth's chief structure, though their frame 

Sits in the firm-set ground— and this the clouds must claim."' 

The church of St. Peter stands over an an- 
cient crypt, built in the time of Constantine, and 
affirmed "by tradition to contain the bones of 
St. Peter. The present edifice was begun in 
1450; the work was afterwards committed to 
Michael Angelo, under whose direction the 
church was completed as far as the dome in 
1563; and thus the work was carried on until, 
in 350 years from the time when the design was 
drawn, the structure was completed, at an ex- 
pense of $50,000,000, besides the further sum 



146 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

of $1,000,000 spent upon the bells, the sacristy, 
Ac., and $31,000 a year expended in repairs. 
The church is built in the form of a Latin cross, 
the centre of which is over the crypt and the 
tomb of St. Peter. The general dimensions are 
as follows: length of the nave, 613 feet*, of the 
transept and cross, 446 feet; the height of the 
ceiling, 152 feet; diameter of the dome, 195 feet 
to the outer walls, and 139 feet in its inte- 
rior ; height from the pavement to the base of 
the lantern, 405 feet; to the top of the cross, 
448 feet. 50,000 people can easily be accom- 
modated in this vast edifice, and yet leave abun- 
dance of room for the priests and ordinary wor- 
shippers., 

Time would fail us even to enumerate the 
statues of colossal proportions, and the magnifi- 
cent mosaics which adorn the walls. And it 
were as impossible to describe the grandeur of 
the scene, which grows upon you with every 
successive visit, and at last, in its overwhelming 
power and sublimity, takes complete possession 
of all your senses. You look across the im- 
mense space, and see men and women seeming: 



GRANDEUR. 147 

like children. You approach the cherubs which 
hang out from the walls, holding between them 
the basin of Holy Water, and they grow to the 
size of giants, whose wrists you cannot span. 
You look up at the statues which appear only 
the size of life, and are told that they are over 
20 feet in height. You gaze up at the letters 
in the dome, and the pen of St. John in the 
splendid mosaic, and are assured that they are 
six or seven feet in length. Everything is co- 
lossal, and the eye cannot, at one glance, take 
in the full idea of the grandeur of this interior. 
You look down through that long vista, and 
see massive columns, arches, piers, beautiful 
chapels, splendid statues, and wondrous mo- 
saics, which make you forget all you have be- 
fore seen of architectural beauty. As you ad- 
vance towards the great dome, you observe the 
Baldacchino, or canopy, which stands over the 
relics of St. Peter, and which is 95 feet high, 
and supported by four spiral columns. 

A flight of stairs leads down to a shrine, be- 
fore which is a kneeling statue of the Pope, who 
is represented as praying before the tomb of the 



148 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Apostle. Ninety lamps, burning night and 
day, are hung around the enclosure. Back of 
this stands the vast tribune, in which hangs the 
chair of St. Peter, with a bronze covering. Dur- 
ing the occupancy of Rome by the French, some 
one climbed up to the chair, and found upon 
it the name of an Indian Prince, to whom it 
probably once belonged. As we approach the 
High Altar, we see the bronze statue of St. 
Peter, with its great toe nearly worn off by 
kisses, and which, upon certain days, is dressed 
in the robes and tiara of the Pope. The four 
columns which sustain the dome are 250 feet in 
circuit, having each two niches, one above the 
other. In the lower recesses are statues of 
saints, about 16 feet high, and in the upper are 
various sacred relics : a handkerchief with the 
likeness of the Saviour upon it ; a piece of the 
True Cross ; the head of St. Andrew, and many 
others. The walls, chapels, and niches are dec- 
orated, not with pictures, but with mosaics of 
exquisite beauty, having all the delicacy, finish, 
and expression of the finest paintings, and illus- 
trative of such scenes as the Crucifixion of St. 



DECORATIONS. 149 

Peter, the Incredulity of St. Thomas, &c. Se- 
pulchral monuments are scattered over the build- 
ing, commemorative of Popes, sovereigns, and 
others, who have been especially distinguished 
for devotion to the Catholic Church. One of 
the most beautiful groups is that by Michael 
Angelo, representing the Mother of Christ, with 
the body of the Saviour upon her knees. It 
decorates one of the chapels in the north aisle 
of the church. Beneath the church is the cele- 
brated crypt, from which ladies are excluded, 
except upon certain fast days, in which are 
ancient chapels and cells, containing sepulchral 
urns of former Popes, and other historical char- 
acters. 

But if we would obtain a perfect idea of St. 
Peter's, we must ascend, to the roof and the 
dome. We wind up a broad, spiral staircase of 
solid stone, and emerge upon the roof, 200 feet 
from the pavement, .where we seem to be enter- 
ing upon the well-paved street of a city. Here 
it is we begin to realize the immense proportions 
of St. Peter's. The domes for lighting the 
chapels below, and the buildings erected for the 



150 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

accommodation of the workmen, constitute a 
very respectable street, or rather two streets, of 
which the centre of the roof is the dividing line. 
Flights of stairs, between the inner and outer 
shell of the dome, conduct us to its summit, 
whence we mount by a ladder into the ball, 
which, although eight feet in diameter, looks 
like a speck from the street, 450 feet below. 
As we descend, we pause to look down from the 
vast galleries upon the pavement beneath, and 
the crowds of men and women appear but as 
the moving figures of a puppet show. 

The services and ceremonies of St. Peter's are 
in keeping with its architectural character. 
Here we witnessed the procession of the Pope, 
as, borne upon the shoulders of his men, and 
followed by an immense crowd of cardinals and 
priests, he passed through files of armed soldiers 
and a vast throng of spectators, which, though 
numbered by thousands and tens of thousands, 
yet left space enough unoccupied to have ac- 
commodated as many more. Just at the close 
of day I attended Vespers, at which the Pope 
was present, and heard such music swelling 



THE VATICAN. 151 

through the vast arches of this temple as seldom 
falls upon the ears of man, this side Heaven. 

Adjoining St. Peter's is the Vatican, or 
Palace of the Pope. It contains over four thou- 
sand five hundred rooms, and exceeds in inter- 
est and splendor all the other palaces of the 
world. Its length is about twelve hundred and 
its "breadth about seven hundred and sixty- 
seven feet. Its various stories are reached by 
eight grand staircases, and two hundred smaller 
ones. It would be useless to attempt any mi- 
nute or detailed description of this vast edifice ; 
yet a few hints may not be inappropriate. As- 
cending towards it through the left portico 
of the church, you enter through the grand 
staircase, which leads to the Sixtine Chapel, a 
lofty hail r one hundred and thirty-five by forty- 
five feet, decorated with splendid paintings, the 
most wonderful of which is the fresco of the 
Last Judgment, by Michael Angelo. It repre- 
sents Christ, surrounded by His saints and 
angels, on the one hand, while beneath Him are 
the lost spirits descending to their eternal home. 
Among these is the figure of a cardinal, who 



152 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

objected to tlie picture, on account of the nudity 
of the figures, and whom Angelo painted in 
hell, with asses' ears. "When the cardinal com- 
plained to the Pope, his answer was, that 
although his Holiness could deliver him from 
purgatory, his power did not extend to the 
lower hell. Passing from this chapel, we pro- 
ceed through an almost endless series of rooms, 
museums, and libraries, devoted to the architec- 
tural and artistic riches of the world. A vast 
corridor, seven hundred feet long, is filled with 
inscriptions, sarcophagi, funeral altars, &c, and 
contains the finest collection of the kind in the 
world. Another series of halls has seven hun- 
dred specimens of ancient sculptures, where we 
behold the images of the deities and heroes of 
ancient Rome, many of them as fresh as when 
they came from the hands of the artist. Other 
museums are filled with vast collections of 
books and manuscripts, of ancient art, of natu- 
ral history, and of science. The Etruscan and 
the Egyptian museums are alone worth the 
study of months ; while galleries of sculpture 
contain some of the noblest works of ancient 



THE ILLUMINATION. 153 

and modern art. Here stands Apollo, the 
very personification of manly beauty, watching 
the flight of the arrow which has just left his 
hand. Elsewhere we came upon the group of 
Laocoon, on which Virgil looked, and from 
which he drew inspiration. "We wandered for 
hours amid these varied collections, lost in 
wonder at their extent and magnificence, and 
gaining some new ideas of the wealth which 
the nations have poured in upon this great 
city. 

Turning from this palace, which holds us 
with a wonderful fascination, we take our 
places, just as the sun is setting beneath the 
softened glories of an Italian sky, to witness 
the splendid spectacle of the illumination of 
St. Peter's. Five hundred men are hanging 
four thousand lanterns upon the columns, arches 
and windows of the vast edifice, which, in the 
growing darkness, shine with increasing bright- 
ness. Just as the bell strikes the quarter-past 
nine, one thousand more torches are lighted, 
and the heavens seem to reflect the glowing; 
splendor like that of a new sun. We gaze upon 
8 



154 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the scene with astonishment which cannot be 
expressed, and turning away from that vast 
crowd of princes, soldiers, priests, and civilians, 
we pass towards our hotel, finding everywhere 
the houses and churches reflecting the light of 
that brilliant illumination, while out in the 
evening sky hangs that wondrous dome, shining 
like another sun in its dazzling glory. And yet 
all this is but in keeping with the wealth and 
splendor of the Romish Church, which has gath- 
ered to itself the riches and grandeur of the 
nations. 

Rome abounds in relics. Beyond the church 
of St. Paul is a church of the Fountain which 
sprang up when his head bounded there from 
the hands of the executioner. Elsewhere you 
meet with the gridiron of St. Lawrence ; a part 
of the garments of the Virgin and of Christ's 
girdle; the rod and sponge used at the cruci- 
fixion ; part of the Virgin's sepulchre ; a picture 
of Christ, given by Peter to Prudens ; part of 
the towel used in wiping the disciples' feet; 
some of Christ's swaddling clothes and of His 
seamless vestment; three thorns from His 



BABYLON. 155 

crown ; fragments of the true cross, and hun- 
dreds of others of the same character. At 
Eome you meet at almost every church offers of 
plenary indulgence for the living and the dead. 
The Church cannot deny that she sells, and has 
sold, indulgences or premiums to rob, to mur- 
der, to commit crimes worse than these. For 
there is above her church doors: " Plenary in- 
dulgence for the living and the dead." 

As to the people of Eome, we cannot but 
observe the seriousness which pervades the 
whole city, and which strangely contrasts with the 
mirth and jollity which is seen in Naples, even 
amid all its poverty. The Komans look serious 
and gloomy, and well they may. What will be 
the end of this wondrous city we can only tell 
by the light of Scripture. If, as there can be 
no doubt, this is the "Babylon" of the Revela- 
tions, then its fate is clearly foretold and dis- 
tinctly and indisputably described in the lan- 
guage of the Spirit to St. John, as he showed to 
him the things which must shortly come to 
pass : 

" The merchants of these things, which were 



156 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

made rich by her, shall stand afar off for the 
fear of her torment, weeping and wailing, and 
saying, Alas, alas, that great city, that was 
clothed with fine linen, and purple, and scarlet, 
and decked with gold, and precious stones, and 
pearls! For in one hour so great riches has 
come to nought. 

" Kejoice over her, thou heaven, and ye holy 
apostles and prophets; for God hath avenged 
you on her ! " 



VIII. 

ROME TO FLORENCE. 

THERE was a wondrous fascination about 
the city of Rome, which made us linger 
there, even when we were warned that it was 
time for us to leave for other scenes. Entering 
our carriage at an early hour, we passed the 
morning of our departure in visiting some of 
the most important and imposing sights of 
the Eternal City. I have said nothing, be- 
cause of lack of time, in regard to one of the 
most beautiful features of Rome — its fountains, 
which seem to empty a river into the very 
heart of the city. Here a great sea-monster 
is spouting the water from his cavernous throat 
— or dolphins are playing within their marble 
reservoirs— or Neptune, with his huge horses' 
is rising from the sea, amid showers of spray 



158 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

—or a river is pouring forth its singing waters 
in lovely cascades, over moss-grown rocks. 
These fountains are a striking feature of Rome ? 
add greatly to its beauty, and stand in living 
and pleasant contrast to the stern and solemn 
monuments of the past, whose giant shadows 
fall upon the city like the ghosts of departed 
ages. 

But we must leave these scenes, where we 
have been living among the dead of other 
centuries. Every step brings back some mem- 
ory of the regal or imperial splendors of 
this mighty city. Every fallen column, or gi- 
gantic ruin, seems a hand thrust out to push 
back the shadows on the dial of Time. We 
again gaze upon the blackened walls of the 
Coliseum, and re-people them with the tens of 
thousands who once looked upon scenes, the 
recital of which, even now, thrills the soul with 
horror. We pass the Forum, and the Capitol; 
see Caesar walking in his pride, and Brutus, 
with his stern, unbending purpose, and hear 
the voices of the orators of Eome ringing out, 
clear and distinct, the noble utterances of the 



LEAVING ROME. 159 

advocate or the patriot. We look up once 
more at that wondrous church which, in mag- 
nificence and grandeur, surpasses all other 
temples made with hands, and think of the 
history and the destiny of that great hierarchy 
and spiritual despotism, whose home is there. 
We pass crowds of priests, nuns, and monks, 
soldiers and beggars, and wonder if there is 
not a mutual connection between Popery, Des- 
potism, and Poverty. We go out of the gate 
of the city, enter the cars, and are whirled 
away towards the sea ; and, as we look back 
upon the pinnacles and domes of Rome, and 
see it fading in the distance, like some wonder- 
ful vision, we feel that the wild dream of our 
youth has been realized ; that we have looked 
upon the Eternal City, have wandered amid its 
monuments, and felt the spell with which it 
must ever bind both the mind and the heart. 

For a strange and mysterious awe hangs 
over Rome, There it has stood for twenty-five 
hundred years, amid revolutions which have 
shaken down and raised up kingdoms. It has 
seen the race of kings swept away when Tar- 



160 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

quin the Proud yielded to the avenger of Lu- 
cretia's honor. It has witnessed the destruction 
of the Kepublic, and, amid the glories of the 
Empire, it was adorned with monuments which 
still speak of its greatness and grandeur. It 
has been the home of Genius : there the poets 
sang, the orators spake out "thoughts that 
breathe and words that burn ;" and the painters 
and sculptors made their art glorious. Time 
has been busy with its noblest monuments. 
Hordes of barbarians rushed through its streets, 
and poured upon its people the red tide of war. 
Internal dissensions have threatened it with 
ruin. And yet it still stands, the mausoleum of 
its own greatness, awaiting the time when God's 
threatenings shall be fulfilled, and the blood of 
the saints, there poured out, shall be most fear- 
fully avenged. And its fall, with that of the 
system of religious intolerance, oppression and 
superstition inseparably. connected with it, shall 
be the rising from the dead, both of Italy and 
the world. 

But, not to linger longer among these scenes, 
once more we find ourselves at Civita Vecchia, 



A NIGHT PASSAGE. 161 

awaiting permission to go on board the steamer, 
which has stopped for passengers jnst within 
the harbor. When the last extortionate de- 
mand is at length satisfied, we stand upon the 
deck of the steamer, and wonder if Civita Vec- 
chia has its equal in the world for rascality and 
for all mercenary appliances, with which to put 
to the severest possible test the ordinary virtues 
of humanity. 

A crow T d of passengers are on board the 
steamer, among whom are some Americans, 
whom, as they will be our companions over the 
Alps, we may as well introduce at once. That 
gentleman, with a merry eye and slouched hat, 
is our former fellow-citizen, the artist Rogers, 
who has attained an enviable position as a sculp- 
tor, and having just finished and sent off his 
models for the bronze doors of the Capitol at 
Washington, is now resting, for a few days, 
from study. The ladies are from the sunny 
South, and although one is a Roman Catholic, 
she has so much of the true stamp of piety, 
both in her manner and conversation, that you 
cannot help loving her. There are two prin- 
8* 



162 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

cesses on board, entire contrasts in appearance. 
The one is young, beautiful and lovely. The 
other neither young nor beautiful. Priests and 
monks, some with black serge cassocks, others 
in white flannel, and others still, with coarse 
sackcloth robes, whose hoods are drawn over 
their heads in lieu of hats, swarm around, their 
toes and heels sticking out from toeless and 
heelless sandals ; and what possible connection 
there is between religion and the wearing of 
dilapidated shoes and grotesque apparel, I could 
never understand. Crowds of travellers re- 
turning from Naples, Malta and Home, are sit- 
ting in groups about the deck, while the sailors 
are busily covering with tarpaulin the heaps of 
baggage upon the deck, anticipating the rain 
which yonder clouds threaten. 

A night of utter discomfort passes, and morn- 
ing finds us at Leghorn, one of the ports of 
Tuscany, where the stranger is totally aban- 
doned to the tender mercies of boatmen and 
commissioners. We are rowed to the Custom- 
house and Police station, which stands upon an 
island, and from thence we reached the main 



LEGHORN. 163 

land, where the most prominent object is the 
celebrated statue of the Four Slaves, executed 
in honor of Ferdinand de Medici. Here we 
meet the galleys, one of the first objects which 
strike the stranger in the Mediterranean ports, 
where the Government prisoners are employed, 
instead of donkeys or steam engines, to load 
and unload vessels. 

Leghorn is the commercial capital of Tuscany, 
and has every appearance of thrift and pros- 
perity, it is a favorite summer resort of the 
Italians, and the drive along the shore is one of 
great interest and beauty. On the one hand 
sleep the blue waters of the Mediterranean ; on 
the other are beautiful villas, surrounded by 
exquisite gardens and shrubbery, and giving 
evidences of domestic comfort and ease widely 
contrasting with the poverty and filth which 
may readily be found in other parts of the city. 

After a thorough examination of our baggage 
and passports, we find our way to the cars, and 
in an hour's ride through a pleasant farming 
country, are set down at Pisa, one of the most 
ancient and beautiful towns in Italy, situated in 



164 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the midst of a fertile plain, about eight miles 
from the sea, The river Arno divides the city 
into two unequal portions. The streets are 
narrow, and are crowded with a population 
which seems to live wholly out of doors. Priests, 
soldiers, monks, gendarmes, nuns, donkeys, beg- 
gars, women and children, busy or idle, driv 
ing bargains, or lounging in utter listlessness, 
selling flowers or fruits, or running after the car- 
riage for a few granos — these make up the crowd 
through which you pass, on your way to the 
north-western extremity of the city, where the 
great attraction of Pisa is to be found. Emerg- 
ing from the narrow streets into an open square, 
we come to the cathedral, with its campanile, 
baptistry, and celebrated burial-ground. 

The first object which attracts our attention 
is the Leaning Tower. It is probable that be- 
fore it was finished, the foundation on one side 
began to sink, and to overcome this difficulty, 
the columns on the leaning side were made 
larger than those opposite. Yet still the tower, 
although one hundred and eighty feet high, in- 
clines so far, that a line dropped from its sum- 



pisa, 165 

mit would fall fifteen feet from the base. It is 
a graceful structure, light and airy, eight stories 
high, and supported by two hundred and seven 
columns. In the seventh story is a chime of 
bells, one of which weighs ten thousand pounds. 
It was here that Galileo made his experiments 
to discover the laws of falling bodies. 

Crossing to the cathedral, we enter one of 
the finest churches in Italy, enriched by spoils 
taken from the Saracens, and supported by col- 
umns which once stood in ancient structures in 
Rome, Greece and Egypt. It is built in the 
form of a cross, three hundred and eleven by 
two hundred and thirty-seven feet; and was 
begun in the year 1067, and finished in 1118. 
Its interior is singularly rich and beautiful. 
Two rows of Corinthian columns — twelve on 
either side — of red granite and various marbles, 
form a base, from which springs a series of 
beautiful and airy arches, rising to and support- 
ing the ceiling, ninety-one feet from the pave- 
ment. One of the altars is of Lapis Lazuli, the 
costliest stone of Europe ; another is encased in 
silver, while statues of solid silver support the 



166 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

tabernacle, and give to the whole an air of rich- 
ness which few, if any others in the world, can 
equal. From the ceiling still hangs the bronze 
lamp, whose vibrations first suggested to Galileo 
the idea of the pendulum. Passing out through 
the bronze doors of the cathedral, we enter the 
baptistry, a building ninety feet in diameter, 
with a dome one hundred and eighty feet in 
height. In this structure is a most wonderful 
and perfect echo, by which a few notes of music 
are caught up, repeated and multiplied, until 
they die away in the recesses of the dome, as if 
angels had caught the melody and were bearing 
it heavenward. Near the baptistry is the 
Campo Sancto, or burying-ground, which was 
fitted to be the repository of the dead by being 
filled with fifty-three vessel loads of earth 
brought from Mount Calvary. Beautiful fres- 
coes by Giotto adorn the walls, while around 
are sarcophagi, urns, vases and statues of rare 
interest and beauty. This Giotto was a cele- 
brated Italian artist, and when a deputation 
from the Pope came to him to ask him for a 
specimen of his skill, so that the Church might 



GIOTTO. 167 

judge whether he was able to paint her frescoes, 
he simply drew a circle, and said, "Take that." 
"Is this all?" asked the messengers. "It is 
enough," replied Giotto. It was enough, and 
Giotto went to Rome. In this burial-place you 
see the tombs of many of the noblest families in 
Italy, appropriately adorned with statues or 
bas-reliefs. 

But leaving Pisa, we again take the road from 
Leghorn to Florence, which is about fifty miles 
in length, and runs through a well-cultivated 
valley, watered by the Arno, and bounded by 
ranges of hills that increase in height as they ap- 
proach Florence, where they close in about that 
city and present from their summit one of the 
loveliest panoramas in Italy. The valleys and 
hill-sides, between Leghorn and Florence, are 
covered with fine crops of grain, with vine- 
yards, and olive-yards, whose luxuriance prom- 
ises an abundant harvest ; while large patches 
of flax are strewed along the Arno, undergoing 
the processes by which they will soon be trans- 
formed into thread and cloth. The fields are 
filled with joyous groups of happy peasants, 



168 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

male and female, who are securing the rich har- 
vests which have whitened beneath the sum- 
mer's sun. At the doors of their neat cottages, 
or beneath the cool shade of the trees or wide- 
spreading vines, women and children are busy 
with their distaffs and spindles, or plaiting the 
braids of straw which form so important an 
article of commerce in Tuscany. The distaff is 
the same which has been in use for thousands 
of years in the East, and brings back to the 
mind the customs of the ancients. There is 
another custom which, ever since Jacob kissed 
Rachel at the well, has become quite universal 
and popular as a sign of affection between 
the sexes ; but we do not often see men kiss- 
ing men. On our way to Florence, however, we 
witnessed this (to us) strange spectacle, and 
although we have adopted many foreign fash- 
ions, I presume this will not soon become 
general. Two men, neither of whom were very 
small, and one was immense, happened to meet 
in the cars, and, throwing their arms about each 
other with the greatest gusto, gave such a smack 
that one would have thought the cars had 



PONTE VECCHIO. 169 

broken down. This method of salutation is 
quite common in Italy. 

As we approach Florence, the scenery in- 
creases in beauty, till we at last enter the city, 
and proceed to the delightful Hotel of Madame 
Molini, in the old Palazza Schneideriff. We 
entered Madame Molini's house strangers, and 
eft it as friends, with, we trust, mutual regret. 
The walls of Florence, six miles in circuit, en- 
close a population of about one hundred and 
sixteen thousand souls. The river Arno divides 
the city into two unequal parts, the largest of 
which lies northward of the river. Four 
bridges cross the Arno within the city limits, 
and two in the suburbs. One of these bridges, 
the Ponte Vecchio, seems like a street, and, in- 
deed, is only the continuation of one, and is 
lined with shops, mostly for the sale of jewelry, 
of which the people are extravagantly fond, 
scarcely a peasant girl appearing without at 
least a string of gold beads, which have been in 
her family perhaps for generations. The Ponte 
di Santa Trinita, a beautiful marble bridge, 
having three noble arches, is decorated at each 



170 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

extreme with statues of the seasons, and is 
about three hundred and twenty-three feet 
long. This is about the width of the Arno, 
which is so shallow that one can wade across it 
anywhere. 

Crossing this bridge, or the Ponte Vecchio, 
we pass through various streets, lined with 
shops of every description, and thronged with 
a busy and active population, who give every 
evidence of thrift and industry. We entered 
Florence not long after the revolution which 
followed the abdication of the Grand Duke, 
who foolishly threw himself into the arms of 
Austria. Yet everything was moving on under 
the provisional government as peacefully as if 
the people had been accustomed to self-govern- 
ment for years — a noble evidence of the charac- 
ter of the Italians, and their fitness to enjoy the 
blessing of a free and liberal government, if but 
left to themselves. When the Grand Duke ab- 
dicated, there was no shouting, no open rejoic- 
ing, no popular outbreak — the people behaved 
like gentlemen, and concealed the exultation 
they felt- Neither did they abuse their power. 



THE DUOMO. 171 

All the officers of the Court, except those who 
were Austrians, were retained in their stations, 
and they did not, as we do, turn out tried and 
faithful servants, because they do not happen 
to vote the same ticket, or believe the same set 
of political opinions that we do. 

Every day's sojourn in Florence gives us a 
new impression of the appellation, "Firenze la 
Bella" Florence the Beautiful! Genius and 
wealth have left their enduring monuments on 
every hand. First in interest and grandeur is 
the Duomo, or cathedral, whose outer walls are 
encased in rich Italian marbles, and whose mas- 
sive and magnificent dome gave to Michael 
Angelo the idea of that of St. Peter's. The in- 
terior is sombre and dark, on account of the 
small windows and stained glass, but the effect 
is grand and sublime, as you stand beneath the 
swelling dome and look down through the vast 
arches and columns, and hear the glorious music 
which rises heavenward at morning and even- 
ing service. The walls and ceilings are com- 
paratively bare of decorations. Here is the 
celebrated, though unfinished, picture by An- 



172 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

gelo, of the entombment of Christ; and here 
repose the ashes of Giotto. Near the church 
stands the campanile, a square tower of mar- 
ble, elaborately wrought, and rising to the 
height of two hundred and seventy-five feet. 
So rich and beautiful is this bell-tower, that 
Charles V. declared that it ought not to stand 
out of doors, but should be kept in a glass case, 
to be exhibited only on special occasions. 

Just opposite is the baptistry of San Gio- 
vanni, entered by immense bronze doors, on 
which are wrought scripture scenes, in bas- 
relief, so perfect that Michael Angelo, and, after 
him, the poet Rogers, declared that they were 
fit to be the gates of paradise. This baptistry 
is supposed to have been built as early as the 
seventh century, and was for many years, until 
the erection of the Duomo, used as a cathedral 
church. All of the baptisms of the city are per- 
formed here. But the church of most interest 
is that of Santa Croce, the Westminster Abbey 
of Italy. As you pass up and down the vast 
aisles and through the numerous chapels of this 
church, you meet with names whose fame is 



SANTA CROCE. 173 

world-wide and undying. Here is the tomb of 
Michael Angelo, placed, as he desired, so that 
when the doors of the church are open, the cu- 
pola of the Duomo may "be distinctly seen. 
Here stands a statue of Italy, pointing to the 
image of Dante, whose ashes sleep in exile from 
the home of his youth. Here are the monu- 
ments to Galileo, who was treated as a heretic, 
until they found that the world would not re- 
gard him as such ; of Alneri ; of Michielli and 
Boccacio. Here sleep the wife and daughter of 
Joseph Bonaparte ; and here are interred the 
ashes of the father of the present Emperor of 
France. Many of the monuments and tombs 
are of the most exquisite and perfect workman- 
ship, rivalling life, or rather death itself, in their 
cold loveliness. 

Not far from the Duomo is the church of 
Santa Maria Novella, which Angelo used to call 
" his bride, and his dear delight." Here Bocca- 
cio used to meditate, and here he arranged the 
opening scenes of his "Decameron," during the 
prevalence of the plague. On the whole, there 
is, perhaps, no church in Florence which com- 



174 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

bines so much of interest and beauty as this. 
The decorations are scarcely equalled in Italy 
for wealth and exquisite taste. Here is the 
celebrated Madonna, painted upon a ground of 
gold, and representing the Virgin with the in- 
fant Saviour, surrounded by angels. The rival 
of this church is that of the Annunciation, con- 
taining the wonderful picture of " the Annunci- 
ation," said to have been painted by the angels 
while the artist was asleep. Near by is the 
church of San Lorenzo, consecrated in the year 
393, by St. Ambrose, but rebuilt in the thir- 
teenth century. Its chief interest is derived 
from the buildings connected with it, in one of 
which is the famous library, built by the Medici 
family, and containing upwards of nine thou- 
sand manuscripts alone, of the rarest character. 
Besides autographs of Virgil, and other Eoman 
poets, there are Egyptian, Hebrew and Chaldaic 
manuscripts, precious beyond price. 

The sacristy is one of the first works of 
Michael Angelo as an architect. This is 

' ' That chamber of the dead, 
Where the gigantic shapes of Night and Day, 
Turned into stone, rest everlastingly." 



SAN LORENZO. 175 

Here are tlie sepulchral monuments of the 
Medicis, and other noble families of Tuscany. 
Upon one of them, containing the remains of 
Lorenzo de Medicis, there are two figures repre- 
senting Morning and Twilight ; and immediately- 
opposite are the statues of Night and Day, 
which, though unfinished, are sufficiently ad- 
vanced to allow us to see the magnificent con- 
ception of the artist who could think out the 
Last Judgment and the cathedral of St. Peter's; 
Over these the statue of Lorenzo is seated. He 
appears absorbed in thought, resting his face 
upon his hand, by which it is partially covered. 
The light, as it falls upon this figure, throws 
upon it a peculiar shadow which gives to it 
a mysterious and almost painful fascination. 
Rogers, the poet, alludes to it in his " Italy," in 
terms which have doubtless found a response 
from many a visitor, who has gazed upon and 
dreamed of that weird statue. 

""What, from beneath this helm-like bonnet, scowls? 
Is it a face, or but an eyeless skull ? 
'Tis lost in shade ; yet, like the basilisk, 
It fascinates, and is intolerable." 

This statue also is by Michael Angelo, whose 



176 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

name we have repeated often, but not half so 
often as one is obliged to listen to in Italy. 
You look upon some graceful and beautiful 
sculpture, and ask whose work it was : " Michael 
Angelo's." Presently, in some other place, you 
happen upon a figure which fairly enchants 
you. If you ask whose it is you have the same 
reply — " Michael Angelo's.' ? You see some 
chapel exquisitely designed and built, and ask 
the architect : " Michael Angelo." You find a 
figure of Moses, coming up to your idea of 
what Moses really was — the sculptor was 
Michael Angelo. Finally, you go to St. Peter's, 
that wonder of the world, that mountain of 
hewn stone, and you feel that it is a fit monu- 
ment for such a man, whose mind sported with 
conceptions which would have crushed any or- 
dinary intellect, and seemed to delight in the 
immense and massive. Angelo was a sculptor 
and painter, as well as an architect, and it is said 
that he could paint with one hand while sculp- 
turing with the other. 

We next enter the Medicean Chapel, which 
was designed as a mausoleum for the Medicean 



MEDICEAN CHAPEL. 177 

family, a race which has now altogether died 
out. Upon the escutcheon of this family are 
the three golden balls, now seen before pawn- 
brokers' shops. The merchants of Lombardy, 
many of whom were pawnbrokers, adopted this 
sign, and it has now become general. To re- 
turn, however, the chapel is lined with rich 
Mosaics, of mother-of-pearl, topaz, coral, corne- 
lian, chalcedony, agate, lapiz lazuli, and others 
of the most precious stones, fitted together with 
the most exquisite taste and skill. The chapel 
is slowly advancing towards completion, al- 
though often delayed for want of means, or by 
political disturbances. 

From the brief and imperfect description we 
have given of the churches, you may form some 
idea of what the palaces must be. Let us visit 
the Palazza Yecchio, the seat of the ancient 
government of Tuscany. In front of it are 
groups of statuary of the most interesting char- 
acter: one is Hercules, another the David of 
Angelo. Under a lofty arcade is the "Rape of 
the Sabines," and " Perseus," and near by is a 
magnificent bronze statue of Cosimo I. Enter- 
9 



178 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

ing the Palace, we pass through vast saloons, 
containing the masterpieces of the world. Here 
is the famous Venus de Medicis, whose beauty 
Byron has sung : 

1 ' We gaze, and turn away, and know not where ; 
Dazzled and drunk with beauty, till the heart 
Reels with its fullness ; then forever there, 
Chained to the chariot of triumphal art, 
We stand a captive, and would not depart." 

In the same room are other groups of statu- 
ary, and exquisite paintings by Raphael, Titian, 
Paul Veronese, Vandyck, Del Sarto, and a host 
of others, whose works have made their names 
immortal. Here, day after day, we stand and 
gaze at these magnificent conceptions of the 
Masters of Italy and the world, and under- 
stand, better than ever before, the meaning of 
the verse : 

" A thing of beauty is a joy for ever." 

Nor is our amazement at the extent and power 
of Italian genius lessened when we cross the 
Arno, and wander through the magnificent halls 
of the Pitti palace, with its profusion of paint- 
ings and statuary, of which time would fail us 
to speak. Indeed, there seems to be no end of 



GALILEO. 179 

the palaces and museums of Florence. Here is 
a noble collection of Natural History. A suit 
of rooms has been appropriated to the instru- 
ments with which Galileo carried on his investi- 
gations into the laws of the universe. Here, in 
three glass cases, is a most wonderful represen- 
tation of the progress of death by the plague, 
from the first symptoms of the disease to the 
last stages of decay. One wonders how the 
artist ever modelled these figures without him- 
self catching the plague. 

Nor does Florence lose its interest, as Ave pass 
to its suburbs. On that hill, just south of the 
city, rises the tower from which Galileo studied 
the heavens, and where Milton visited him in 
his retirement ; and still beyond is the house 
where the philosopher, neglected, outcast and 
persecuted, died in poverty, attended only by a 
single friend. 

From what has been said of Florence, as a re- 
pository of art, it is no wonder that it is the 
home of artists. Here Powers lives, and at his 
studio we saw the statue of Washington, recent- 
ly arrived in this country, and the exquisite 



180 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

figure of " California." Hart, of Kentucky, and 
many other American and foreign sculptors 
have their studios here. 

Passing out of Florence, we ascend the heights 
of Fiesole, with its ancient Etruscan walls, and 
the old town and fortress, rising 1,100 feet above 
the city, and which stood before Florence was 
built. Here is a Franciscan monastery, and 
many interesting relics of the aborigines of Tus- 
cany. As you look from the hill, one of the 
lovliest of panoramas is before you. A large 
city, with its Italian towers and domes, is at 
your feet, surrounded by an endless variety of 
beauty ; while beyond, the swelling hills, crown- 
ed with groves of olives, vineyards, and smiling 
villas, form a background to a picture which, 
once seen, can never be forgotten. 

Florence abounds in public gardens and 
drives, of which the most remarkable are the 
gardens connected with the Pitti Palace and the 
Cascino. The former are, perhaps, the most beau- 
tiful and extensive in Europe. They are exqui- 
sitely laid out upon the hills overlooking the 
city, and have scattered along their walks 5,000 



THE MISERICORDIA. 181 

vases of flowers, and 500 citron and orange 
trees. The Cascino, lying west of the city, upon 
the Arno, is a vast park where the citizens meet 
of an afternoon for social recreation and enjoy- 
ment. Fashionable calls are made upon the 
ladies as they sit here in their carriages. 

Among the many benevolent institutions of 
the city is the Misericordia, a society formed to 
give relief to the sick and dying. A call of the 
bell brings together the members, who are dis- 
guised in black gowns, dominos, and masks, 
and who, without recognizing each other— so 
that a gentleman may stand side by side with 
his valet — meet to perform the duties of their 
office. It is no uncommon thing of an evening 
to see a procession of the members of this so- 
ciety, having a litter with some sick or wounded 
man upon it, whom they are bearing to the hos- 
pital or his home, there to be attended to until 
returning health or death releases him from his 
sufferings. 

While Florence and Tuscany are both Ko- 
man Catholic, and feel the full power of the 
priesthood, it is a fact which cannot but elicit 



182 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the gratitude of every Christian, that there the 
gospel has been preached, and has found a foot- 
hold; that Protestant ministers and churches 
have been tolerated to some extent, and that 
nearly 10,000 copies of the Bible have been put 
in circulation. The Bible-readers abound there, 
and carry on their operations as at Lyons. In- 
quiry after the truth has been awakened, and 
we cannot but trust with confidence in workings 
of that Word, of which God has said, " It shall 
not return unto me void." 



IX. 

FLORENCE TO TURIN". 

WE left Florence with regret. Who could 
suppress a sigh at bidding farewell to a 
city of such beauty, to scenes where nature has 
fairly lavished her loveliness, and to friends 
whose kindness had made us a home, even in' a 
land of strangers. We were turning away from 
the abode of Genius and Art ; from scenes which 
have been made forever memorable by the chisel 
of the sculptor, the pencil of the painter, the 
lyre of the poet, and the pen of the historian. 
It was on the morning of a beautiful summer 
day that we took leave of that group of friends 
whom we had daily met at the table of Mad- 
ame Molini, and drove towards the station on 
the road to Leghorn. A flood of golden sun- 
light was streaming down upon that lovely val- 



184 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

ley in which Florence rests, and bathing in 
glory the swelling hills which surround the city. 
On our right rose abruptly the heights of Fi- 
esole, with its monastery, designed by Michael 
Augelo, its lofty and imposing cathedral, and 
its quaint commingling of ancient and modern 
architecture. Behind us was the hill, crowned 
with the antique tower from which Galileo once 
explored the heavens with his telescope ; while 
still beyond it were the forests and mountains 
of Vallambrosa. Upon our left were the bright 
waters of the Arno, while on every side the hills 
were smiling in their beauty, covered with 
thousands of villas and palaces, looking out from 
dense groves of olives and cypress, or surround- 
ed by fields stacked with the gathered harvest, 
or giving promise of a rich and abundant vin- 
tage. Here and there a crumbling ruin, an aban- 
doned fortress, or a time-worn cathedral, point- 
ed us back to ages of past glory, which filled 
Italy with its monuments ; while the vast dome 
of the Santa Maria, with its beautiful campanile 
(whose bells were even then summoning the 
Florentines to their matin devotions), once more 



BEAUTIFUL ITALY. 185 

arrested our attention, and seemed to impress 
indelibly upon our memories the beauties which 
were fast fading from our visions. 

As we recall even now that scene of exquisite 
loveliness, we can fully sympathize with the 
impassioned words of Byron, who once visited 
these scenes, whose genius kindled beneath their 
wondrous beauty, and whose mind and heart 
appreciated the terrible reality of Italy's oppres- 
sion and suffering: 

" Italia ! Oh, Italia ! Thou who hast 
The fatal gift of beauty, which became 
A funeral dower of present woes and past ; 
On thy sweet brow is sorrow plough' d by shame, 
And annals graved in characters of flame ! 
Oh, God ! that thou wert in thy nakedness 
Less lovely or more powerful, and could' st claim 
Thy right, and awe the robbers back, who press 
To shed thy blood, and drink the tears of thy distress ; 

"Then might' st thou more appall ; or, less desired, 
Be homely and be peaceful, undeplored 
For thy destructive charms ; then, still untired, 
Would not be seen the armed torrents pour'd 
Down the deep Alps ; nor would the hostile horde 
Of many-nation'd spoilers from the Po 
Quaff blood and water ; nor the stranger's sword 
Be thy sad weapon of defence, and so 
Victor or vanquished, thou the slave of friend or foe." 

No man can tread amid the fair scenes of 
Italy, and not feel a pang of sorrow that, with 
9* 



186 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

so much that is lovely and glorious in Nature 
and Art, there should be everywhere present 
the marks of oppression and superstition* 
When shall Italy rise in her power and dignity 
as a nation? "When shall the light of God's 
Word scatter the midnight that now rests with 
its dark and gloomy shadow over scenes of such 
exquisite beauty, and over a people who, un- 
der proper influences, might reproduce the old 
Roman glory, heightened and made perpetual 
by the light of a true and spiritual religion. 
The Papal Church, — with its load of supersti- 
tions and childish mummeries, its idle traditions, 
its unscriptural rites and doctrines, its armies 
of priests, monks, and nuns; its vast monastic 
institutions ; its wily and terrible Jesuitism, and 
its hatred of the Word of God as a Book for 
the people,— -rests like a nightmare upon Italy. 
It opposes her progress; it interferes with her 
political institutions; it winds itself into her 
government; it arrays her kings and princes 
against her citizens ; it shuts out light and lib- 
erty ; it loves darkness and resists every effort 
to scatter its shadows. In her recent struggle 



THE PAPAL CHURCH. 187 

to free herself from the dominion of Austria, 
and to give her fair domain to her own children, 
Italy has found her "bitterest opponent in the 
Roman hierarchy. Can we doubt that, when 
the day of retribution comes— as come it will — 
all this will be remembered, and the voice which 
John heard in Apocalyptic vision shall be ech- 
oed over the plains of Italy, heralding the down- 
fall of the terrible system which has so long 
crushed out the liberties of the world, "Re- 
ward her as she has rewarded you \ " 

But we must hasten on from these scenes 
and reflections. A pleasant ride of three hours 
brings us to Leghorn, where, after the usual 
delay, we find ourselves on board the " Vatican," 
with an immense throng of passengers, waiting 
for three long and weary hours the departure 
of the steamer. Just before sunset we made 
our way out of the harbor, and were again 
afloat upon the blue waters of the Mediter- 
ranean, and gazing upon th^e distant hills along 
the coast, which were shining in the indescrib- 
able glow of an Italian atmosphere. The 
crowded state of the ship excluded all hope of 



188 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

obtaining any ordinary sleeping-place, and af- 
forded us the opportunity of seeing every 
available spot upon the quarter-deck covered 
with mattresses, and some fifty or sixty men, 
women and children, priests, monks and nuns, 
undertaking to sleep through a night of heat so 
intense as to be almost unendurable. My 
friend Rogers and myself made our way for- 
ward, through a mass of heads, arms and feet, 
so intermingled that it required skilful naviga- 
tion to avoid treading upon them, and found 
a most comfortable standing-place, where we 
could while away an hour in talking of Italy, 
her past, present and future. Toward morning 
I crept into the cabin and attempted to sleep, 
but it was like trying to keep cool at the mouth 
of a furnace. The morning at length dawned, 
and with its first grey twilight I arose and 
looked out upon the hills of the Bay of Genoa. 
The light had not yet gone out in the tower 
which stands upon the Mole, when we swept 
into the harbor and came to anchor amid a vast 
crowd of ships, steamers and small coasting ves- 
sels. It was a magnificent scene which burst 






GENOA. 189 

upon our vision. Genoa la Superba ! Genoa, 
the city of palaces, the ancient empress of the 
sea, whose merchants were princes, and her 
princes merchants, lay before us. A vast am- 
phitheatre of hills, crowned with tasteful villas, 
with splendid palaces, with glorious temples, 
with solid ramparts, and with hanging gardens 
and terraces, where the orange and the lime 
nourish, rises directly from the sea, while be- 
yond it the glorious Appenines, in all their 
wondrous grandeur, lift their heads towards the 
clouds, and make up a scene of unsurpassed 
magnificence. Making our way to the shore, 
through a throng of vessels, we find ourselves 
well-provided for in one of the ancient palaces, 
now transformed into a hotel. 

To describe Genoa is but to repeat what has 
already been said of Naples, Rome and Florence- 
We pass through the same endless succession of 
churches and palaces, and see the same evi- 
dences of Italian genius and taste. Most of 
the streets are exceedingly narrow, many of the 
great thoroughfares of business being only from 
eight to ten feet wide, and some are not more 



190 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

than six. These are built up with houses six 
and eight stories high, and are so crooked and 
intricate that a stranger can most readily lose 
his way in them. As you ascend the heights, 
however, they become more spacious, and pre- 
sent to your admiring gaze long series of marble 
palaces, which have for generations been the 
homes of the princes of Genoa. 

One of the peculiar features of the city is the 
graceful and beautiful attire of the ladies, who 
universally wear a veil thrown over their heads, 
fastened with pins to their glossy hair, and 
then flowing over their shoulders to the waist. 
When the most fashionable portion of the 
female population appear in public with these 
veils gathered in graceful folds over their black 
hair, and daintily held in place by their taper 
fingers, they have a most charming and pic- 
turesque appearance which one cannot but 
admire. 

The heights around Genoa afford many rich 
and magnificent views. You stand in the midst 
of a vast and glorious panorama of hill and 
mountain, valley and city, while at your feet 



SARDINIA. 191 

are the countless palaces, villas and cathedrals, 
which have won for Genoa the title of the 
Superb, But we cannot linger here. Far 
away to the north stand the snow-clad Alps, 
forming an eternal barrier between Italy, 
France and Switzerland, and they are inviting 
us to their cool retreats and their glorious 
altars, which have been built without hands, 
as the fitting ornaments for the temple which 
God has made for Himself — a temple whose 
shining arch is the bright heaven, and whose 
choral music is the murmur of the winds, the 
voice of the waters, and the roar of the ava- 
lanche. 

Taking the cars at Genoa, we are whirled 
away over the plains of Sardinia, where every 
step gives us the assurance that the country is 
governed by a man whose liberal and extend- 
ed views are leading him to seek the highest 
welfare of his people. We reach Turin at 
night, and, taking the omnibus of the Hotel de 
le Bretagne, ride through broad and beau- 
tiful streets, well paved and brilliantly illumi- 
nated, to the very heart of the city, near the 



192 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

ancient castle, still surrounded by its deep moat, 
but now used as the General Police Office of 
Piedmont. Turin contains about 125,000 in- 
habitants, and has every appearance of pros- 
perity. It is built on an extended plain, upon 
the northern side of the Po, which is crossed 
by several fine bridges. It contains over one 
hundred churches, many of which are remark- 
able for their decorations and the splendor of 
their architecture. The royal palace is one of 
the finest in Europe, and, besides its splendid 
paintings and statuary, presents the most per- 
fect arrangements for domestic comfort and 
enjoyment. As the King was absent, we were 
permitted to visit the private rooms of the 
royal family, which are fitted up with the most 
exquisite taste, and appear to have been design- 
ed to give to the royal inmates everything 
which art and taste can yield to make for them 
a pleasant home. 

One of the marked features of Turin are the 
vast colonnades, which make the side-walks a 
pleasant resort, either in the heat of summer, or 
the rains and storms of winter. Here, beneath 



TURIN. 193 

these long arches, extending from the river to 
the castle, and branching off thence into streets 
which are built upon the same plan, are the 
great marts of Piedmont, filled with every ar- 
ticle of traffic, and crowded with citizens or 
peasants, with their quaint and antique dresses, 
who have come from the country to exchange 
their produce for the luxuries which the city 
affords. The streets of Turin present the usual 
contrasts of Italian towns, although the amount 
of beggary here is sensibly diminished. It is 
doubtless the best built city in Europe. The 
erection of its buildings is not left to private 
taste and caprice, but is committed to an officer, 
whose assent must be gained before a single 
house can be erected. As a result of this, the 
whole town is uniform, and the dwellings are 
substantially built. Nothing but such an ar- 
rangement could ever have produced that splen- 
did arcade, of which I have just spoken. Here 
and there, throughout the city, are pleasant 
squares or piazzas, which add not only to its 
beauty, but are also greatly promotive of its 
health. 



194 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

The walks and drives around Turin are of 
grea/fc beauty. Crossing the Po by its magnifi- 
cent bridge of marble and granite, we come to 
a range of hills upon which stand several 
churches and. buildings, presenting, from their 
elevation, a most picturesque appearance. As 
we look across the plain, westward and north- 
ward, the whole gigantic chain of the Alps is 
before us, shadowing away in the distance, but, 
nearer at hand, shining in the brilliant light 
which is for ever reflected from their eternal 
snows. Here, at the foot of these stupendous 
mountains, is the home of the early witnesses 
of the Truth ; and towards that spot we turn, 
with all the ardor of the pilgrim who has trav- 
elled long and. far to stand amid the scenes 
and struggles and triumphs of the Israel of 
the Alps. Taking the cars at the western sub- 
urb of Turin, we ride, for an hour and. a half, 
through a beautiful country, well cultivated, and 
pleasantly diversified with plain and hill and 
gentle streams, and luxuriant with olives, figs 
and the mulberry. Twenty miles from Turin is 
Pignerolo, the terminus of the railroad, lying 



PIGNEROLO. 195 

upon hills which command most extensive views. 
The approach to the city, as it rises upon this 
noble amphitheatre, is strikingly beautiful. For 
several miles the main avenue is lined with lux- 
uriant vines, running from tree to tree. From 
the summit of a gently swelling hill, a pictur- 
esque convent peeps out from the midst of fig- 
trees and vineyards, while upon a terrace, which 
overlooks the vast plains of Piedmont, stands a 
lofty and imposing cathedral. 

On landing at the station we found that the 
diligence had already started for La Tour, and 
that the next stage would not leave until even- 
ing. After looking over the city, with its many 
sad symptoms of decay, and at the- hotel, the 
appearance of which was by no means inviting, 
we determined to charter a carriage to carry us 
to La Tour, some seven miles distant. We 
should hesitate some time before using such a 
conveyance in this city, for such a turn-out is 
not witnessed every day, either as regards horse, 
carriage, or postilion. But it safely conveyed 
us through a country growing every moment 
more and more interesting, until the valleys of 



196 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Piedmont were reached, and, crossing a foam- 
ing torrent which came down from the Alpine 
snows, we entered the capital of the Waldensian 
valleys. It was a most grateful relief to find 
ourselves away from the pomp and magnificence 
upon which we had so long been gazing, and 
resting amid the quiet beauty of this hallowed 
spot. It was a pleasant contrast to the heat 
and dust of the city, which we found in these 
glorious hills that rose above us. Nor was the 
utter contrast to all we had seen in Italy com- 
plete until we entered our chamber at the hotel, 
and found on our table a copy of the Testament 
in French and German — the first, except our 
own Bible, which we had met with in Italy. It 
was a token that we were passing out of the 
terrible shadows of priestly traditions into the 
blessed sunlight of the Word of God. 

The Waldensian territory embraces a space 
twenty-three by eighteen miles, having, in the 
mutations of centuries, been greatly reduced 
from its original limits. It lies upon the south- 
eastern slope of that vast range of mountains 
which divides Italy from France and Savoy. 



LA TOUR. 197 

Its shape is triangular, taking the ridges of 
the Alps for its base. Here, among one of the 
wildest scenes of Nature, nestle the smiling 
valleys of Piedmont, the homes of the ancient 
Church of God, the witnesses for His truth 
through long ages of corruption and darkness. 
La Tour, the capital, lies within the valley of 
Luzerne. Just at the entrance to the village is 
a Roman Catholic church, around which are the 
usual amount of beggars ; beyond stretches a 
long and crooked street, with no pretensions 
whatever to architectural beauties, filled with 
comfortable houses, built with stone, and most 
of them roofed with the same material. Towards 
the other extremity of the village is the beau- 
tiful church, erected by contributions from 
England and America. Near by, surrounded 
by a pleasant green, is the College, a plain, sub- 
stantial edifice ; beyond which are the residences 
of the professors, built after the plainest pos- 
sible models, and in perfect keeping with the 
primitive simplicity which everywhere prevails. 
In the rear of the village a mountain torrent 
goes thundering down, to add its waters to the 



198 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Po. On either hand rise the steep spurs of the 
Alpine range, far up whose sides are the stone 
cottages of the Waldenses. The scenery through- 
out this valley is of the wildest and most im- 
posing character. As you advance upwards 
from La Tour, the mountains close in on either 
hand, until the valleys become mere wild ra- 
vines ; yet, in the most rugged portions of them 
may be seen little patches of grain and grass, 
in the midst of which the peasant has made his 
home. Nothing can exceed in beauty and ro- 
mance the scenes which now open, with some 
new and fresh interest at every turn. Far above 
you rise the hoary mountains, placed there like 
watchful sentinels to guard the repose of the 
simple-hearted people whose homes they shelter. 
Wild and narrow defiles — foaming torrents 
rushing down their mountain beds— peaceful 
lakelets, embosomed in the hills, and reflecting, 
like polished mirrors, the outlines of nature — 
and meadows of unrivalled beauty and fertility, 
form a contrast of awful grandeur, and attrac- 
tive loveliness and grace. Here is the spot 
where Christianity found a home amid the early 



THE VAUDOIS. 199 

persecutions of the church, confirming the 
Apocalyptic vision of the woman fleeing into 
the wilderness to escape the dragon which 
sought to destroy herself and her child. 

There are five valleys lying between these 
stupendous ranges of hills, mainly converging 
at La Tour, and containing a population of 
about 22,000, of whom a few are Roman Catho- 
lics, who, under the present mild and paternal 
government of Sardinia, are prevented from 
manifesting that ancient hatred which for ages 
made this country the scene of sore and bitter 
persecutions. I found that Dr. Revel, the mode- 
rator of the Waldensian Synod, (to whom I had 
letters,) was absent at Milan, but through the 
kindness of his excellent wife I was introduced 
to several of the professors, and to Mr. Charbon- 
niei\ the acting pastor of La Tour. The morn- 
ing after my arrival was the Sabbath, the day 
of all others which I wished to spend in these 
valleys. At an early hour I walked with Prof. 
Thon up to the old church of the Copies, one 
of the two which were left standing when the 
Vaudois returned from their banishment bv the 



200 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Papal authorities. Leaving the streets of the 
village, and following the course of a beautiful 
stream which comes winding down from the 
hills, we ascend towards those gigantic moun- 
tains, whose jDeaks stand out in clear and well 
defined outlines against the sky. Almost above 
us, upon our right, is the bold rock of Castel- 
luzzo, memorable during the persecutions of 
the Waldenses as a natural fortress, to whose 
summit mothers and children were borne, to find 
refuge from the assaults of their merciless ene- 
mies, and from which many were thrown down 
and perished. Across the valley rises another 
Alpine spur, cultivated almost to its summit, 
while before us loom up distant peaks, where 
clouds and storm make their home, and amid 
whose awful solitudes the eaode builds her nest. 
It was a most interesting sight to see all the 
avenues and paths leading to the church, filled 
with peasants on their way to the place of wor- 
ship. Venerable patriarchs, with their children 
and their children's children, were walking to- 
wards the house of God. Matrons with their 
daughters, simply and neatly attired, and with 



CHURCH OF COPIES. 201 

their unique head-dresses, were descending the 
various mountain paths. Strong men and youth 
were clambering up some romantic gorge, all 
moved by one impulse, — to worship the God of 
their fathers. As they met each other, pleasant 
salutations were exchanged, and to us the hat 
was respectfully lifted, as they recognized in us 
strangers from a distant land. 

The old church is built of stone, and in its 
entire absence of all ornament offers a strange 
contrast to the splendid temples which we had 
everywhere seen in Italy. But never, by all the 
pompous services we had seen elsewhere, were 
we so moved as by the simple scene which there 
presented itself. Yes, that venerable church, 
with no altars; with no splendid statuary or 
paintings ; with no throngs of robed priests and 
mitred prelates ; with no chant swelling up amid 
the light that comes streaming through stained 
glass and gothic windows; with no organ peals 
resounding through lofty arches, and filling the 
vast space with glorious music — yet surpassed 
all I had yet visited, in its thrilling associations. 

What is St. Peter's when contrasted with this 
10 



202 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

gigantic temple, built without hands, which for 
ages has sheltered the Church of Christ ? What 
were all its pompous services to the simple, de- 
vout, and pious utterances of a people, the suc- 
cessors of a line of Christians whose history goes 
back to the early dawn of Christianity upon the 
Italian mountains? 

As I entered the humble sanctuary, I took a 
seat near the pulpit and looked over the large 
audience, and I could not but remark the entire 
contrast which was presented, to the pomp, pa- 
geantry, and childish follies upon which I had 
been looking for the past month. The people 
were evidently peasants in the most humble cir- 
cumstances. As they entered the church, each 
one stood for a moment in a reverent attitude, 
evidently uttering a silent prayer. The women 
were seated upon one side of the church, and 
the men upon the other. The service began 
with a lesson from God's Word, read by the 
teacher who sits below the pulpit, and who also 
acts the part of a precentor. At the reading of 
the Law, the congregation all rise ; after which 
the minister, dressed in a simple robe, makes, on 



WALDENSIAN WORSHIP. 203 

behalf of the people, a general confession of sin. 
The prayers are "brief but comprehensive, and 
are mostly read from a published form. The 
music is congregational, and at present consists 
in singing the Psalms, without any attempt at 
rythm or versification. The sermon, by Mr. 
Charbonnier, was, at the first service, a simple 
exposition of a portion of Scripture, designed 
mainly for the instruction of the catechumens, or 
youth who are undergoing a course of prepara- 
tion for the communion. 

At ten o'clock, a second, service was held in 
the church at La Tour, a large and pleasant edi- 
fice, well filled with a serious and attentive au- 
dience. A group of nearly 300 children were 
gathered there in the afternoon, and it was de- 
lightful to see the interest which they manifest- 
ed in the duties of the hour, the readiness with 
which they gave scriptural answers to the ques- 
tions proposed, and the happy faculty which 
their pastor possessed of enlisting and retaining 
their attention. In the evening a service was 
held with the children at the Orphan Asylum, 
which consisted of some simple devotional exer- 



204 IMPRESSIONS ABROx\D. 

cises, and a brief exposition of a passage of the 
Word of God. At the close of the meeting, I 
begged the teacher to let them sing for me one 
song — u La Belle Patrie" (There is a Happy- 
Land)— and so they gathered aronnd the door 
in the open air, and sang it as I have often heard 
it in my own beloved Sabbath-school at home. 
As those sweet tones died away, I conld not 
help trying to say a few words to that little 
gronp, and to tell them that I had come from 
America to see their people, and that my sin- 
cere wish for them was, that they might love 
the Saviour, who took little children in His 
arms, and would at last receive all who trust 
Him, in that "Happy Land" where there 
would be no sin nor sorrow. 

The history of the Waldenses must ever ex- 
cite the deepest sympathy and interest of all 
who love the Church of God. They were for 
ages the witnesses for His truth, and kept alive 
a pure and evangelical religion, when all the 
world had gone after the lying wonders of the 
Man of Sin. Their written histoiy does not go 
back beyond the tenth or eleventh century ; but 



WALDENSIAN HISTORY. 205 

their traditions indicate that there was a church 
amid these mountain fastnesses ages before, and 
that during the times of persecutions, the people 
of God here found a refuge in the wilderness. 
As the Italian Church began to feel the grow- 
ing tendencies to corruption in the increase of 
priestly power and splendor, this simple people 
remained unaffected thereby, and kept alive the 
early doctrines and institutions of Christianity. 
Shut up in their mountain homes, they were 
satisfied with the simplicity of the gospel, and 
desired none of those regal forms and splendid 
ceremonies which were taking the place of the 
truth and the original ordinances of Christ. 

Their early confessions, and especially the 
" Noble Lesson," show that their creed has ever 
been evangelical and pure. How the Romish 
Church, in its hatred of the gospel, has fearfully 
and bitterly persecuted this people, is well known. 
The history of their expulsion from the valleys 
and their final return, is familiar to all. At the 
Reformation they sent two delegates to have an 
interview with the Reformers, and when they 
heard what was their design and their creed, 



206 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

they gave them a hearty a God Speed!" and 
the right hand of fellowship. 

Their form of church government resembles 
that of the Continental Protestant churches, 
being essentially Presbyterian. There are about 
sixteen congregations in the valleys, each of 
them being governed by a Consistory composed 
of the pastor and elders, who are represented 
and united in a Synod, corresponding to the 
Presbytery and Classis of the Scotch and Dutch 
churches. The executive of the Synod is a 
Table, or Committee of ministers and laymen, of 
which body Dr. Revel is the present Moderator, 
having been recently reappointed by the Synod. 

The Waldensian church evidently has for its 
special work the evangelization of Italy. Al- 
ready a number of missions have been estab- 
lished, and churches built at several important 
points, and the Truth is making its way with 
evident success. 

The present King of Sardinia, though him- 
self a Roman Catholic, gives ample protection 
to the Vaudois, although they are not left with- 
out evidences of the bitter hatred which the 



THE VAUDOIS, 207 

Papal priesthood cherishes towards them, and 
of the jealousy with which their movements are 
regarded. Yet the restrictions which were once 
laid upon them are greatly mitigated, and the 
heavy penalties, which prevented any effort for 
the evangelization of Italy, are almost entirely 
removed. 

The Vaudois are in every respect a wonder- 
ful people. Though mostly poor, no beggars 
are seen among them. The peasants live high 
up among the mountains, cultivating every avail- 
able spot of ground, and living in the most sim- 
ple and frugal style. Although depending 
mostly upon foreign benefactions for the sup- 
port of their ministry and educational institu- 
tions, they yet give of their poverty for the 
missionary work, and regard themselves as es- 
pecially designed of Providence to spread the 
truth in Italy. For this purpose they have 
established a college, in which about 100 youth 
are receiving an education, and have, mainly 
through the benevolence of American Chris- 
tians, endowed a theological faculty for the pur- 
pose of fitting young men for the ministry. 



208 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

The college stands at the entrance to the val- 
ley, looking out upon the mountains which have 
been for ages the retreat of the Church of God, 
and the shelter of His persecuted people. In 
yonder Roman Catholic village stands the 
old nunnery which tradition connects with 
many a tale of persecution and death. Every 
hill has a voice and a story, and tells of fearful 
trials endured for a testimony to the truth. 
Here, amid these scenes and memories, the Vau- 
dois youth can prepare for the work of the min- 
istry, and, stimulated by the wonderful history 
of their people, can quietly pass through the 
necessaiy preparations for the duties before 
them, and fit themselves to carry forth the truth 
which their fathers loved, and for which many 
yielded up their lives. From this spot they 
will go forth to meet the coming wants of Italy ; 
and, as the people, tired and disgusted with the 
mummeries of Popery, shall desire to know the 
truth as it is in Jesus, they will hear it from 
the lips of a ministry which is truly Apostolic, 
and from a Church which has never been 
"reformed," because never corrupted. 



THE ALPS, 

IT was a day of intense heat in which we bade 
adieu to Turin and to Italy, and turned our 
faces towards those glorious Alpine peaks which, 
in solemn grandeur, rose before us. The usual 
annoyances of visas to our passports were to be 
undergone ; the Swiss consul was to be con- 
sulted, and his consent to our passage into 
Switzerland obtained; permission of the police 
was to be had for our leaving Turin, and then 
places were to be secured in the cars and dili- 
gence for Geneva. It was no small tax upon our 
patience, after attending to all these prelinrina- 
ries, to await the time of the officials at the sta- 
tion ; to have every article of baggage weighed, 
marked, and taxed, and then for almost an hour 
to look for the return of the omnibus which was 
to convey us to the railway. We were not 
10* 



210 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

sorry for any little by-play to occupy our 
thoughts, and we watched, with uncommon in- 
terest, the movements of a party of street- 
acrobats, who, laying down a carpet and 
spring-board, performed sundry grotesque gym- 
nastic feats. As chairs were very scarce, my 
friend Rogers and myself improvised seats for 
the ladies of our party from piles of port-man- 
teaus, carpet-bags, and shawls, while he and I 
stretched ourselves upon the pavement, present- 
ing quite an oriental appearance to the passers- 
by, and, on the whole, taking matters pretty 
much at our ease. Just as the omnibus arrived 
for its load, one of our party, from Rome— -the 
lady with six immense travelling-trunks — drove 
up with her courier, having decided to honor us 
with her company over the Alps, For a time 
there appeared to be every prospect that the 
cars would be half-way to Susa before our load 
should arrive at the station ; but with the aid of 
porters and officers, and amid a great many not 
very elegant Italian oaths, we were finally dis- 
posed of, lady and all, and arrived in time to 
secure our places. 



SUSA. 211 

The cars on this road are exceedingly com- 
fortable, and our way led through a country 
which grew every moment more wild and in- 
teresting. On the one hand was the foaming 
torrent of the Dora, fed by the snows of the 
Alps, rushing down to join the Po at Turin, and 
then to become a highway for commerce, and to 
now by fifty cities ere it reached the Mediter- 
ranean. On the other hand were mountains, 
pressing more and more upon the road, until 
at Susa they made further progress by rail im- 
practicable, — and we came to the foot of Mount 
Cenis, through whose wild passes we were to find 
our way to Switzerland. 

Here we found a large encampment of French 
soldiers — their white tents shining in the clear 
light of the full moon, which was riding glori- 
ously through the heavens and giving almost 
the distinctness of day to every object around 
us. As the cars arrive, everything around the 
station is full of life and bustle. Three large 
diligences are awaiting their loads of passen- 
gers and baggage ; conductors and agents are 
reading off the names of the passengers, and as- 



212 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

signing to each one his proper place ; hungry 
people are running into the refreshment rooms 
to lay in a supply for the night's travel ; others 
are arranging their overcoats and shawls for use 
in the anticipated cold of the mountain passes; 
long ladders are placed to the top of the dili- 
gences, upon which men are busily engaged in 
packing away huge piles of trunks, among which 
are the small Saratoga houses of our lady fellow- 
traveller, and about which she is giving her cou- 
rier a most sound rating — for she well knew 
how to scold: name after name is called o&\ to 
which some person answers, steps out, and takes 
the place assigned him by the conductor. Three 
of us mount to the banquette, the only place 
which could be obtained for love or money, and 
which is, after all, the place in a diligence for 
mountain travel. And perhaps I had better 
pause here, to describe a diligence. It is a huge, 
lumbering vehicle, containing some four or five 
compartments. The coupe, the most aristocratic 
and high-priced, which will hold three or four 
persons, is in the front; the interieur, which will 
contain some seven or eight passengers, is back 



DILIGENCE RIDING. 213 

of this; the rotonde is in the rear, and the ban- 
quette, which is generally considered the worst 
of the four, is above the coupe. We took the 
banquette, for it was Hobson's choice with us— 
either that or nothing. 

Twelve males are attached to this vast ma- 
chine, with its ship-load of passengers and bag- 
gage 5 the conductor ascends to our side, where 
he can direct the whole and manage the brakes; 
two postilions, in their monkey-jackets, mount 
upon their saddles, and with a shout and crack 
of the whip, the word, u en route, postilion? is 
given, and we begin the ascent of the Alps. 
There is an air of romance about a diligence 
ride up these mountains which makes it ex- 
ceedingly attractive. The wild songs and 
shouts of the postilions, with the incessant ac- 
companiment of the crack of the whip, as they 
urge their mules along these steep acclivities ; 
the loud roar of the Alpine torrent as it rolls 
and thunders by ; the excitement which attends 
the passage of some tremendous abyss, which 
shrinks away from your feet into almost un- 
fathomable depths, while on the other side a 



214 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

mountain spur, with its sharp and bold outlines, 
stands up like a giant to dispute your progress ; 
the intense delight with which some new and 
majestic feature of the mountains is welcomed; 
the solemn and awful grandeur of these mighty 
hills that rise up to the clouds, all combine to 
give to the traveller a pleasure that no work of 
art could ever produce. These are the solemn 
altars of the temple which was built with- 
out hands, and whose choral echo is the uni- 
verse. 

Occasionally a train of baggage passes us, or 
small, straggling companies of soldiers ; or a 
muleteer, with his load, goes singing and shout- 
ing by. Here and there a small hamlet indi- 
cates the existence of hardy mountaineers, who 
are improving the last foothold of vegetable life ; 
or a hospice or hostelry is planted by the road- 
side, for the assistance of wayworn and weary 
travellers. 

I cannot forget, though I cannot well ex- 
press, the emotions I felt when, on awaking 
from a short sleep, just in the grey of the morn- 
ing, I looked upward and saw, high above us, 



AN ALPINE PASS. 215 

the lofty peaks of the Alps, covered with per- 
petual snows. The cold had now so increased 
that every shawl and overcoat was in demand, 
although it was the middle of the month of 
July. The air was sharp and clear, and, as the 
day dawned, the scene which opened before us 
was one of awful grandeur. On every hand 
rose high and rugged peaks, gleaming in the 
light of the morning sun. Here and there, 
vast gullies, cut in the mountain-side, marked 
the track of an avalanche ; while upon the 
hill-side of the road were occasional excava- 
tions made as places of safety when the rocks 
and snows of the mountain are making their an- 
nual descent to the valley. Near the summit 
of Mount Cenis, six thousand eight hundred 
and twenty-five feet above the sea, stands an old 
hospice, originally founded by Charlemagne, in 
the ninth century, when crossing this pass with 
his army. The present edifice was built by 
Napoleon L, a part of which is occupied by a 
corps of soldiers, and the rest by Benedictine 
monks, who reside here that they may aid the 
weary and benighted traveller. 



216 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

At this point the scenery is sublime. Deep 
valleys, and fearful ravines, through which 
wild mountain torrents are foaming, spring 
away from our side, down to almost inter- 
minable depths. The beautiful scenery of 
Italy has been exchanged for the wild and 
rugged grandeur of the mountains. The olive 
and the vine have long since disappeared. 
Here and there are small patches of grass, amid 
which stands the chalet of the mountaineer, 
where his cows are grazing, while still higher 
his goats are cropping the herbage which 
forces its way up between the rocks. The road, 
as it winds by these tremendous ravines, with 
its zigzag course, often lies upon the very verge, 
so that the brain almost whirls as we look down 
and think what would be the result of a single 
mistake in directing the diligence, or of the 
slightest accident to our ponderous vehicle. 
Along the way there are built, at intervals, 
Houses of Refuge, where live the xantonniers, 
who are engaged in mending the road and in 
aiding the needy. From the post, on the sum- 
mit of Mt. Cenis, to Lans-Le-Bourg, the peasants 



LANS-LE-BOURG. 217 

use sledges, in the winter, when the snow has 
filled up the ravines, and by this means they 
descend the mountain in about ten minutes, 
passing over a distance that requires from two 
to three hours to ascend. 

As we pass downward, through scenes of the 
grandest and wildest character, we find, high 
above one of the gorges, a strong and well-built 
fortress, whose batteries command the passage 
to Italy. A beautiful bridge, hanging high in 
the air, and connecting the fort with the road, 
has the expressive name of the Pont du Diable, 
or the Devil's Bridge. Lans-Le-Bourg, at the foot 
of Mt. Cenis, is the first Swiss town with which 
we meet. It is a long, straggling village, with 
only one principal street, exceedingly narrow 
and filthy, and filled with numerous cabarets, 
which furnish a breakfast of coffee, hard bread, 
and a pipe of tobacco. As the road winds 
down from this point — which, although at the 
foot of the mountain, is four thousand four 
hundred feet above the sea level — it opens 
upon a most beautiful and romantic gorge, in 
which lies the valley of St. Michael, where com- 



218 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

mences the tunnel under the Alps, which is to 
connect France and Italy by a passage nine 
miles long. 

At St Jean de Maurienne we leave the lum- 
bering diligence, and are hurried by cars through 
beautiful scenes, by lakes and rivers, cataracts, 
mountains, plains, and valleys, until we arrive 
at the city of Geneva, situated upon the lake 
whose name it bears. This city, containing 
about 32,000 inhabitants, stands just at the foot 
of the lake, where the blue waters of the ar- 
rowy Rhone sweep toward the valleys of France. 
A substantial bridge connects the two portions 
of the city, which lies upon the slope of two 
hills, divided by the Rhone. As seen from the 
lake, Geneva presents an exceedingly beautiful 
appearance. Along the banks is a fine street 
or quay, and a beautiful public garden has 
been laid out, and forms an exceedingly de- 
sirable promenade on a warm evening. The 
city is divided into lower and upper towns, 
somewhat like Edinburgh. Standing at the 
window of our hotel, we have a view far up the 
lake, dotted here and there with the white la- 



GENEVA. 219 

teen sails of passing vessels. In the distance is 
the noble range of the Jura mountains, stretch- 
ing away to the south and west. If we walk 
across the bridge at sunset, we have a splendid 
view of the Mont Blanc range, amid which the 
hoary monarch of the mountains lifts his awful 
head to the clouds. It is amid these two ranges 
that Byron lays the scene of the storm which 
he has so wonderfully and graphically described • 

Far along, 

From peak to peak the rattling crags among, 
Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 
But every mountain now has found a tongue, 
And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, 
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud 1 

The city of Geneva owes its chief interest to 
its having been the home of Calvin. Here, when 
leaving France, he was met by the Reformers, 
who compelled him to remain among them. 
Here he wrote his great theological works, and 
accomplished an amount of varied labor which 
broke down his health at an early age. The 
old cathedral of St. Peter's, the edifice in which 
he preached, is still in the possession of the es- 
tablished church, and a portion of the pulpit is 



220 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

pointed out as the old desk at which he uttered 
the glorious truths of the gospel. His grave 
has nothing to distinguish it, save a stone with 
the initials J. C. 

One of the pleasantest excursions from 
Geneva is a sail down the beautiful lake upon 
which the city stands. It is about forty miles 
long, lying 1142 feet above the sea level, 
and is of most exquisite beauty, its scenery 
possessing the charms of almost endless variety. 
As the steamer turns upwards from Geneva, the 
magnificent summits of Mt. Blanc, fifty miles 
distant, are distinctly seen, while along the 
shores of the lake are lovely villas, picturesque 
churches, and thriving towns and watering- 
places. Near the end of the lake stands the 
castle of Chillon, an old feudal fortress, whose 
interior presents a fine idea of the rough and 
rugged times in which it was built. Here is 
laid the scene of Byron's " Prisoner of Chillon." 
The castle stands upon an isolated rock, and was 
built in the year 1238, as a State Prison. Here, 
for six years, Bonnivard, who had sought the 
freedom of Geneva, was confined in a dungeon 



CHILLON. 221 

just at the level of the lake. The ring to which 
he was chained is still there. Near by, the beam 
which once served as a gallows for the condemn- 
ed prisoners is seen, while, in another part of 
the castle, is a small staircase, which terminates 
in a fearful well, eighty feet deep, down which 
many a victim was hurled, and so disappeared 
from the world forever. No wonder that the 
poet writes of this spot : 

" Chillon ! thy prison is an holy place, 
And thy sad floor an altar, for 'twas trod 
Until his very steps had left a trace 
Worn, as if the cold pavement were a sod, 
By Bonnivard : may none these marks efface, 
For they appeal from tyranny to God." 

Early in the week the diligence, in which our 
places had been taken several days before, drove 
out of the city of Geneva for the vale of Cha- 
mouny, fifty miles distant. Our route lay 
through an exceedingly picturesque country. 
At the town of Anemasse we enter Savoy, where 
our passports are examined, and the baggage 
taken down and inspected. As we continue to 
ascend, unmistakable evidences of our approach 
to the Alpine regions abound. The stream that 



222 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

rushes by us becomes more turbulent and rapid, 
and the worn and whitened rocks show traces 
of the winter's flood, and are an indisputable 
proof of its power. As we advance toward the 
mountains, the scenery becomes more wild and 
awful. Huge precipices frown above us, and at 
our feet lie vast and dark ravines. Bold moun- 
tain peaks stand up in clear relief against the 
sky. Vast rugged rocks lie in the deep defiles, 
whither they have fallen from their native 
ledges in the hills above. At Sallenche we 
pause for dinner, which we prefer to eat under 
the porch of the hotel, that we may enjoy, un- 
interruptedly, the magnificent scene which now 
opens to view. Just across the river is a noble 
range of precipitous hills, rising into huge cliffs, 
which are called " needles," affording a beautiful 
contrast to the Forclaz, with its sides covered 
with pines and its top with pasturage. At our 
feet lies a deep gorge, while above and beyond 
all, Mont Blanc, still twelve miles distant, but 
appearing near at hand, lifts its majestic head 
above the clouds, and shines in the splendor of 
an unclouded day. Yet even here, amid these 



CRETINS, 223 

glorious creations of tlie Almighty, one is com- 
pelled to witness poverty and degradation. 
Crowds of beggars surround the hotel, and fol- 
low the carriage, nearly all of them afflicted 
with that shocking disease of the Alps, the 
goitre, and many of them being idiots of the 
very lowest character. The goitre is a large 
excrescence upon the neck, and it is more fre- 
quent with women than with men. Although 
a horrible deformity, it is said to be attended 
with no pain. This disease is very common in 
the Alps. But even these sufferers are nothing- 
to the Cretins. The Cretin is a vacant and 
hopeless idiot, whose huge head, shrivelled 
limbs, inarticulate words, distorted features, 
meaningless face, and staring eyes, present a 
spectacle which, once seen, can never be forgot- 
ten. I shall never forget two whom I saw, father 
and son. The son was blind, deaf, and dumb,, 
and just able to stand, and both were in the 
most horrid and abject poverty. 

At Sallenche the diligence is exchanged for 
a char-a-banc. This vehicle is simply an old, 
rickety, broken-down, rheumatic and most un- 



224 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

comfortable two-horse carriage. In our case it 
was rendered still more uncomfortable by the 
presence of a very queer sort of passenger, who 
occupied the fourth seat, and whose room 
would have been infinitely preferable to his 
company. He made all sorts of strange antics, 
and put himself in most uncouth positions, wind- 
ing up by sitting on the top of the carriage 
and dangling his feet in our faces, and this 
while the vehicle was on the edge of the preci- 
pice, leaning over it until one almost anticipated 
a headlong fall. The ride from Sallenche to 
Chamouny is about fourteen miles by measure- 
ment, although it is, probably, fifty miles in 
feeling. But the scenery well repays us for the 
fatigue. Some magnificent views may be ob- 
tained by leaving the carriage and turning a 
little aside from the main path. One of these 
is peculiarly grand. From a slight elevation 
above the road, the eye takes in a magnificent 
panorama, presenting an Alpine scene of inde- 
scribable wildness and rugged grandeur. Down 
a dark and awful gorge, filled with vast masses 
of rock, which have been gathering there for 



ALPINE SCENERY. 225 

ages, roll the foaming waters of the Arve, bear- 
ing down with it the fine sand which has been 
worn away from the Alps by the action of the 
glaciers upon them. Beyond this rise huge and 
rocky peaks, desolate and barren, blackened by 
the storms of centuries. Far away in the dis- 
tance are smiling valleys and plains, while here 
and there around us are the rude chalets of the 
hardy Savoyards, and groups of peasants, busy 
in gathering in their mountain harvest of grain 
and grass ; while children are busy turning the 
new-mown hay, and women are bearing it home 
upon their heads in huge bundles. 

Towards the close of the day we ascend the 
last hill which lies between us and Chamouny, 
and, coming to a sudden turn of the road, see 
at one glance the beautiful valley, with the 
vast glaciers which lie clown upon its very 
verge, mingling the snows and ice of winter 
with the luxuriance of summer. The spot 
where we are standing is called the Montets, a 
steep and stony ascent, from which we obtain 
fine views of the enormous peak of Mont Blanc. 
As we pass the glaciers which come down to 
11 



226 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the valley, we observe the furious torrents 
which, descend from them, and which are form- 
ed by the constant melting of the ice in the 
intense heat of the sun. The village of Cha- 
mouny, which lies in the valley, is a collection of 
Swiss chalets, cottages, and fine hotels, with the 
ordinary bustle of a watering-place. It is sur- 
rounded by the vast ranges of the Alps, which 
spring up on either hand, leaving between them 
only a narrow strip of land susceptible of culti- 
vation, and affording many very good spots for 
farming purposes. The river Arve flows through 
it, and even here, within a few miles of its 
source, is a wild, deep and furious stream. 

I need not say how sweet was the sleep 
which followed a fatiguing ride of fifty miles, 
with long, toilsome walks up steep hills, where 
walking even was some relief to the miseries of 
a wretched char-a-banc. But with the early 
dawn I was awake and astir to obtain my first 
daylight view of Mont Blanc. I was at length 
in that spot which had formed the subject of 
many a delicious reverie. In all my thoughts 
of Europe, Chamouny was a word which called 



SUNRISE AT CHAMOUNY. 227 

up scenes and visions of beauty which I knew 
must abundantly repay the toil with which the 
valley was to be visited ; and now, as I looked 
around, I felt that, truly, the half had not been 
told. 

What were all the palaces and works of art 
to the scene which now burst upon our sight ? 
What were all the temples of Italy to this gor- 
geous temple, built by Him who setteth fast the 
mountains ? 

" Above me are the Alps, 
The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls 
Have pinnacled in cloud their snowy scalps, 
And throned Eternity in icy halls 
Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls 
The avalanche, the thunderbolt of snow ! 
All that expands the spirit, yet appalls, 
Gathers around these summits, as to show 
How Earth may pierce to Heaven, and leave vain man below.'' 

I took a position whence I could see the 
awful summit of Mont Blanc rising above the 
sea to the height of 15,760 feet! As the day 
dawned, its first faint light rested upon the top 
of this monarch of the mountains. Gradually 
the shadows which were yet lying upon the 
hills and valleys disappeared, bringing more 



228 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

and more distinctly into view the outlines of the 
magnificent panorama which lay around us. At 
length one bright ray of sunlight rested upon 
the head of Mont Blanc, and then other points 
were rapidly illuminated, and their long shad- 
ows fell upon the more distant summits, un- 
til at length every peak was gleaming in the 
morning light, and day broke upon the moun- 
tains. That sight, which I had so long antici- 
pated, I shall not soon forget. Its wondrous 
beauty will be a "joy forever. 1 ' 

As I stood gazing upon it, the words of 
Coleridge, written in the vale of Chamouny, and 
which, from boyhood, had made me desirous to 
look upon these scenes, were recalled with all 
their power and beauty, as a fit utterance of the 
emotions which were swelling within me. 

"Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star 
In his steep course, so long he seems to pause 
On thy bald, awful head, ' sovran Blanc ? ' 

dread and silent mount, I gazed upon thee 
Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, 

Didst vanish from my thoughts — entranced in prayer 

1 worshipped the Invisible alone. 

" Thou, too, hoar Mount ! with thy sky-pointing peaks, 
Rose like a cloud of incense from the earth ! 
Thou kingly Spirit, throned among the hills ! 



MER DE GLACE. 229 

Thou dread Ambassador from Earth to Heaven I 
Great Hierarch ! tell thou the silent sky, 
And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun, 
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God ! ' ' 

From this glorious scene I turned away, to 
make preparations for an excursion to the Mer 
de Glace. After an early breakfast, our mules 
were at the door, and we set off in the saddle 
with two excellent guides. Crossing the roar- 
ing river by a substantial bridge, and shortly 
after the Avernon, by a more primitive structure, 
we soon began to ascend an almost precipitous 
mountain by a small mule-pass cut in its 
side, and which winds up by a zigzag route, 
across the tracks of avalanches, amid huge and 
ragged rocks, by the rustic chalets of the moun- 
taineers, and often on the very verge of tre- 
mendous ravines and precipices that start away 
from our feet, and almost make the head dizzy 
with the sight of their fearful depths. After a 
ride of about three hours we reach an elevation 
of over five thousand feet, and turning around 
the angle of a rustic hostelry, our enthusiastic 
guides shout, " Voila la Mer de Glace ! " and the 
wondrous scene is before us. This glacier lies 



230 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

in one of the valleys of Mont Blanc, and is fed 
by the eternal snows upon its summit. It is 
about twelve miles long by from half a mile to 
a mile and a half broad, and the ice, broken up 
into thousands of hummocks, and opening as 
many fearful chasms, is supposed to be from 
two to seven hundred feet thick. As it pro- 
ceeds downward with a daily motion of about 
fourteen inches, it carries with it the rocks of 
the mountain, which are ground to powder in 
the passage, and are carried away by the waters 
of the Avernon, which issue from a dark cavern 
at the foot of the glacier. Far up on either side 
are sharp and bold peaks of rock, called aiguilles, 
or needles, which form a decided and beautiful 
feature of this whole Alpine range, and which 
are a glorious fringe to this majestic sea of ice. 
There are many points from which this scene is 
surveyed by tourists, each of which presents 
some new attraction. All should descend from 
Montanvert by the precipitous path which leads 
to the glacier, that they may walk upon it, and 
stand upon the verge of those fearful gulfs, 
formed by the downward motion of the ice. 



CROSSING A GLACIER. 231 

Suck are the changes made upon the surface of 
the glacier by its motion, that a new path across 
the icy sea has to be marked out every morning. 
The progress of the sea is indicated by masses 
of rocks which have fallen upon it from the 
precipices above, and which are moving down- 
ward to join the vast piles of debris accumulat- 
ed into hills in the valley below. In regard 
to the width of this glacier I do not speak posi- 
tively. The air is so clear, and the surrounding 
objects are so unusual, that it is almost impos- 
sible to judge correctly of distances. It takes 
forty-five minutes to cross, however. There are 
flags along the route to direct the guides, but 
even then we sometimes get between two 
ravines which are closing together, and are 
forced to retrace our steps. 

But we must not linger here. Returning to 
our hotel by the same zigzag route, the descent 
of which is more dangerous than the ascent, we 
may spend a pleasant afternoon in the valley, 
amid the bazaars for the sale of Swiss wood- 
work, much of which is of an exceedingly 
beautiful character. Early on the following 



232 IMPRESSIONS ABROxiD. 

morning we are again in the saddle, .with our 
carpet-bags and shawls strapped on behind us, 
and, passing through the beautiful valley of 
Chamouny, from which we obtain an upward 
view of several fine glaciers, we leave its roman- 
tic hamlets and villages, and, journeying to- 
ward the passes which lead to Martigny and 
the valley of the Rhone, begin the ascent of 
the Col de Balme. Thirty long and weary 
miles are to be passed over, — but the clay is 
fine, the air bracing, the guides attentive, and 
the scenery is beautiful. Toiling up the steep 
sides of the mountain we soon leave all vegeta- 
tion behind us, except the few hardy shrubs 
and grasses that can endure the long and severe 
winters. Here and there a peasant is looking 
after some cows, or goats climbing up the dizzy 
precipices to the green spots warmed into 
beauty by the summer's sun. It is the middle 
of July, but the snow is still lying here and 
there around us, and a thousand little streams 
are laughing their way down to the valley. I 
made a capital snow-ball, when stopping for din- 
ner at the little hostelry on the summit of the 



FORCLAZ. 233 

mountain, where we arrived after a ride of 
about five hours. At this point, 7,550 feet 
from the sea, Mont Blanc appears before us in all 
its vast proportions, soaring above all the sur* 
rounding peaks, shining cold, clear and bright 
against the cloudless sky. Resuming our jour- 
ney, after a plain dinner of bread and milk, we 
descend to the valley of the Trient, cross a 
rapid stream, leave the romantic hamlet, com- 
posed of rude chalets, and pass onward, through 
pine forests, with here and there a green patch, 
or meadow, or field of barley, on our way to- 
wards the Forclaz. Here our passports are 
examined, at a lonely police station, new visas 
impressed upon it, and we begin our descent 
towards the valley of the Rhone, winding down 
a zigzag path, with short and abrupt turns, 
which sometimes bring either the heads or tails 
of our mules over a precipice, down which we 
may cast a stone that shall fall a thousand feet 
before it touches the earth, to rebound down the 
dark ravines which shrink away at our feet. It 
is a wild and fearful path, but the views of the 
valley are magnificent, and well repay the toil. 
11* 



234 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

As we advance, signs of civilization appear, 
and increase at every step. Peasant girls, with 
baskets of cherries, and other fruits, are offering 
us their articles of traffic ; beggars are soliciting 
alms; farmers are gathering in their crops; 
women and children are turning over the new- 
mown hay, and large and well-laden wagons 
are slowly passing with their loads of grain. 
"We are a most sorry party when we arrive at 
Martigny, and could not have proceeded much 
further if we had tried. Resuming our journey 
by rail and steamer, we pass the beautiful falls 
of the Pissevache; an old hermitage, perched 
high upon a precipice ; lonely valleys and vil- 
lages; through Lausanne, the lake Neuchatel 
and Bienne, to the quaint city of Bern, and at 
last arrive at the most charming and attractive 
of all the places of Switzerland — Inteiiaken. I 
can see that delightful valley now. The guide- 
books say, that if you lose a friend on the 
road, you'll be sure to find him there. Ladies 
are generally taken sick there, and say to their 
husbands, "Do you journey on by yourselves 
and see all that is to be seen. We are too tired 



INTERLAKEN. 235 

to go further. Don't be gone more than a 
month, and we'll wait for you here at Inter- 
laken." Truly, it is the best place in Europe 
for a summer's enjoyment, and I do not see that 
I could do better than leave you there for a 
week, and meet you again, to journey with you 
down the Rhine, 



XI. 

THE RHINE. 

THE omnibus, loaded within and without, 
set us down, by our direction, at the Pen- 
sion Ritschard (at Interlaken) which in Murray's 
account of that place has this brief but decided 
notice : " Quiet and comfortable." A pleasant 
experience of several days at that hotel, enables 
us to give our full and free endorsement to all 
the good things which have been said of it. 
Nothing can exceed in romantic beauty the ap- 
pearance of Interlaken as you enter it from the 
lake. Whirling through a long street of huge 
and quaint Swiss cottages, with their steep, pro- 
jecting roofs, evidently built with a view to 
the severe winters of this region, we at length 
emerge into a beautiful avenue, shaded by broad- 
spreading trees, and lined with hotels, pensions. 



JUNGFRAU. 237 

and stores for the sale of Swiss fancy articles. 
On the left hand flows the river Aar, connect- 
ing the lakes Thun and Brienz. Towards the 
west are the snow-clad summits of the Bernese 
Alps, and through an opening between two in- 
ferior mountains, rises that wondrous beauty, 
the Jungfrau, to the height of 13,720 feet above 
the sea; brilliant with its vast glaciers, and 
crowned with the snows of an endless winter. 
It is impossible to tire of that scene. Day after 
day we look upon it with freshening interest, 
and even now, among the pleasant memories of 
the Old World, that lovely valley smiles before 
me with all its quiet beauty, as distinct and clear 
as when my eye first gazed upon it. 

We wonder not that Interlaken has become 
the favorite resort of Europe. In fact, it is an 
English settlement, with English customs, man- 
ners, and habits. One of the most practicable 
and delightful excursions which can be made, is 
that to the valley of Lauterbrunnen. It was 
one of the sights of Switzerland which I had 
most wished to see. The ride thither is full of 
romantic interest, growing more and more wildly 



238 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

beautiful, until we turn into a valley bounded 
by huge cliffs, which approach each other as we 
pass onward, until they seem almost to meet. 
The view at this point is indescribably grand. 
The road winds along the banks of a roaring 
mountain torrent, fed by the glaciers and snows 
of the Alps, As the valley gradually opens 
before us, its beautiful cascades, falling like 
silver threads from the mountain peaks, form one 
of its most attractive features. Shepherd boys, 
with their rude Alpine horns, are awaking the 
echoes of these huge cliffs, which take up the 
wild strains and repeat them from height to 
height, until they die away in music so sweet 
and soft that it seems as if an angel's harp 
were catching the notes upon its strings, and 
bearing them heavenward. 

Passing a collection of Swiss cottages, with a 
hotel and a neat village church, we approach 
the wonderful fall of the Staubbach, which 
comes pouring down from the height of nine 
hundred feet. Long ere it reaches the valley 
below it is broken into silver threads, and falls 
so gently that its murmur seems Kke the rustling 



STAUBBACH. 239 

of a bridal veil, winch nature has thrown over 
the scene. Byron, in his Drama of Manfred, has 
described it, investing it with the peculiar hues 
with which his strange mind looked upon 
nature : 

<l It is not noon — the sun-bow's rays still arch 
The torrent with the many hues of heaven : 
And roll the sheeted silver's waving column 
O'er the crags, head-long, perpendicular ; 
And flings its lines of foaming light along, 
And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail— 
The giant steed to be bestrode by Death, 
As told in the Apocalypse !" 

Besides this fall, there are thirty more, which 
come falling from the clouds to mingle with the 
torrent which is hurrying downward toward the 
rivers and lakes below. But we cannot linger 
here, except to obtain a few souvenirs of the 
place, and to fill our minds and memories with 
the wondrous wildness and beauty of the 
scene. We spent a pleasant Sabbath at Inter- 
laken, and listened to a sound, evangelical dis- 
course, from the English chaplain. It was most 
touchingly beautiful and affecting, to hear offer- 
ed up, in that far-distant land, prayers for the 
Queen of England, " and thy servant, the Presi- 



240 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

dent of the United States;" the words fell 
most gratefully on our ears. It was hard to 
leave this lovely valley. But a mountain 
storm, which, we were told, might last many 
days, was gathering upon us. The clouds began 
to shut down upon the Jungfrau and hide her 
beauties from us; and so, turning away, we 
were, in a few hours, at Bern, — after another 
sail upon the lake of Thun, a view of the pic- 
turesque town which bears its name, and a 
ride of two or three hours in the cars. 

Bern is a quaint old Swiss town, with two or 
three long streets, built with solid and heavy 
colonnades, which we found very comfortable to 
shop or walk under during a storm. The city 
stands upon a hill overlooking the Aar, and has 
several fine public buildings and monuments. 
It contains about 27,000 inhabitants. The 
traditions in regard to its early history are, that 
it was founded in 1191 by the Duke Berchthold, 
who killed a monstrous bear upon the spot, and 
who began there a city which he called Bern 
(the Bear) in honor of that event. The Bear 
seems certainly to be the patron saint of Bern 



BERN. 241 

— if an animal can properly be called a patron 
saint, and bears raised to that dignity — for 
almost every monument or fountain has a statue 
of one. The city is abundantly supplied with 
water, and with fountains of most queer device. 
Among these is the Ogre Fountain, representing 
a monster devouring a child, while his pockets 
are filled, like a cannibal Santa Glaus, with a 
number of others, of whom he evidently intends 
making a meal. There are, also, several curious 
clocks, one of which has a number of figures 
moving by machinery, so that, when the clock 
strikes, a procession of men and animals moves 
out ; a cock flaps his wings, and crows ; Time 
turns his hour-glass ; another puppet strikes the 
hours upon a bell, and the king stretches, gapes, 
and lowers his sceptre. There is a fine prome- 
nade, built upon a platform, one hundred and 
eight feet above the Aar, from which may be 
had a magnificent view of the Bernese Alps, 
which, when seen at sunset, reflect the light 
from their snowy peaks, and present a scene of 
rare beauty even in Switzerland. 

Taking the cars from Bern, a few hours' ride 



242 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

brings us to Lucerne, and the lake of the Four 
Cantons, memorable for the stirring scenes en- 
acted there, giving Liberty and Independence to 
Switzerland. The city itself, though small, has 
many objects of interest, — such as its antique 
bridges, with their quaint paintings, numbered 
by hundreds, filling the triangular spaces under 
the roofs. Here, also, is the Lion monument, 
carved from the solid rock where it stands- 
This statue was intended to commemorate the 
names of the Swiss Guard of Louis XVI., who 
fell during one of the revolutions in France. 
The Lion lies in a grotto forty-four feet long, 
and is itself twenty-eight feet in length. But 
the great beauty of Lucerne is the lake, and the 
scenery which surrounds it. Taking the steamer, 
and sailing up toward Fluellin, we pass through 
a succession of scenes of the most interesting 
character. Upon the right rises Mt. Pilatus, 
the violent storms which gather around it being 
thought the perturbations of Pilate, who, tradi- 
tion says, wandered hither and drowned himself 
in the lake. Though how on earth he reached 
here, I have never learned. On the left stands 



THE RIGI. 243 

the Rigi, from whose summit may be had, in 
clear weather, the most extensive panorama of 
Switzerland. "We would gladly have endured 
the toil of the ascent, had the clouds given any 
sign of settled weather. But we remembered 
the sad experience of those who had before 
made the attempt, and whose sorrow found ut- 
terance in the following poetical effusion, written, 
it is said, in the Album at the summit : 

" Nine weary, up-hill miles we sped, 

The setting sun to see ; 
Sulky and grim he went to bed ; 

Sulky and grim went we ! 
Seven sleepless hours we tossed — and then, 

The rising sun to see, 
Sulky and grim we rose again, 

Sulky and grim rose he." 

We had no special desire to subject our tem- 
per and patience to this tax, and so we passed 
on, with new beauties ever opening before us, 
toward the head of the lake. Bold and rocky 
promontories stand in clear outline upon its bor- 
ders, and send their giant shadows over its 
waters. At the foot of the Bigi is a slip of 
land, upon the steep slope of the hill, about two 
miles wide by three long 3 which for a long time 



244 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

formed an independent state. A very small 
state that, yet it is a fact that for four centuries 
its inhabitants preserved their independence. 
Passing on from this point, we enter upon a 
wild and magnificent scene, where the lake is 
hemmed in by vast mountains, whose tops shine 
with perpetual snows, and whose awful and 
rugged sides seem only fitted for the home of 
storms and the eyrie of the eagle. This is the 
scene where Tell bravely fought for liberty, and 
freed his country from the yoke of the oppres- 
sor. Upon a point of rock stands a chapel, 
marking the spot upon which he sprang from 
the boat in which Gesler was bearing him 
to prison. The story of this escape and the 
death of Gesler, is familiar to every school-boy. 
After those memorable scenes, — of the tearing 
down of the tyrant's cap, the shooting the apple 
from the boy's head, and the discovery of that 
other arrow which was intended for the tyrant's 
heart, — Tell was made a captive, and taken by 
Gesler across the lake to the castle in which he 
was to be confined. During their passage a 
most violent storm came up, and Gesler, in 



BASLE. 245 

alarm, asked Tell to manage the boat. The 
Swiss hero guided the little craft so well that 
its stern touched the shore first, and he sprang 
out and made good his escape, after lodging 
an arrow in the heart of the tyrant. This 
chapel was erected in 1388, not long after Tell's 
death, and it is the scene of an annual gather- 
ing and festival to commemorate the event. 
The scenery around is sublime. The mountains 
rising above it, present a panorama awfully 
grand and majestic. 

Returning to Lucerne, a car-ride of a few 
hours brings us to Basle and the Rhine, upon 
whose swift and arrowy waters it stands. It 
has the quaint appearance of an old German 
town, with its steep-roofed houses and churches. 
Here it was that the famous council was held in 
the fifteenth century, and in the ancient min- 
ster are preserved many relics of Erasmus, whose 
labors were here given to the cause of the Prot- 
estant Church. The cathedral towers are odd, 
and a most queer-looking bell hangs on the out- 
side of one of them. Quaint figures and carv- 
ings decorate it, within and without, and its 



246 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

whole appearance is in keeping with its great 
age. Crossing the river, we take the cars for 
Baden-Baden, one of the most celebrated water- 
ing places of G-ermany. 

The country is level and comparatively unin- 
teresting, except as it abounds in countless vine- 
yards and farms, and skirts the borders of the 
Black Forest, so long famous in German legends. 
Passing Fribourg, whose tall minster-spire is a 
prominent feature of the town, and catching a 
distant view of the cathedral of Strasbourg, in a 
few hours we arrive at Baden-Baden, a city of 
about 6,000 inhabitants, and which lies chiefly 
upon the slope of a hill, from whose summit 
may be obtained a view of almost unsurpassed 
beauty and extent. 

Here stand the ruins of an ancient castle, at 
which, until the year 1741, the Dukes of Baden 
resided. A new one has since been built, lower 
down the hill, where the present Duke dwells, 
and which is open to visitors. It is a tasteful 
chateau, but beneath it are dungeons, gloomy 
and fearful, filled with the sad emblems of an- 
cient tyranny and oppression. Winding our 



THE CONYERZATIONS HAUS. 247 

way downward, under the direction of the cas- 
tellan, we come to chambers which were once 
filled with instruments of torture, a few of which 
still remain. The doors are of solid stone, and 
of great thickness, and their closing sound must 
have fallen dreadfully upon the ear of the 
prisoner whose fate hung upon the will of a 
brutal tyrant. Every spot reminded us of those 
days of darkness when the strong ruled the 
weak, and violence and oppression stood in the 
place of liberty and law. We passed through 
these doors into a vaulted space, and entered 
the chamber where the prisoners were tried and 
condemned. And we shuddered as we thought 
of the scenes which had here been enacted. 

Near the castle are 13 hot springs bursting 
from the ground, which so heat the earth that 
the place is called. Hell — a name, as we shall 
see, better applied to a much more attractive 
resort. The water is conveyed by pipes to the 
Trinke Halle, where it is drawn off for use. 
Large rows of shops for the sale of various arti- 
cles line the avenue to the famous Converzations 
haus, which is one of the great features of Baden. 



248 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Everything sold in Vanity Fair may be found 
in these shops. The saloon is nothing more 
than an immense gambling-house, fitted up in 
the most magnificent manner, in which, besides 
numerous private parlors and rooms, there are 
two large halls for gambling, and these are the 
resort of many of the nobility of Europe. Here 
they sit, hour after hour, staking their money — 
their characters gone long ago. In front of the 
house is a large square, where a splendid band 
of music gives evening concerts. In the porch, 
as you enter, hang the hats and opera-cloaks of 
ladies who have come to spend their evening 
and their money. Passing through a splendid 
hall, where a roulette table is surrounded by 
men and women, you enter a second hall, where 
a crowd of both sexes are seated, eagerly en- 
gaged in the game of Rouge et Noir. Piles of 
money are lying before them; one man deals 
the cards, and calls out red or black, as one or 
the other happens to turn up; and the four 
croupiers, with small rakes, push out or bring 
in the money which has been won or lost. 
Strict silence is observed, and hour after hour 



GAMBLING. 249 

that group are busy at their terrible amuse- 
ment. Never did I see such expressions of 
countenance as at that table, as the players 
placed large rolls of gold coin upon it, and at a 
turn of the cards, either lost or won. I confess 
that I never could see what particular amuse- 
ment there is in card-playing „ It seems like a 
stupid and idle way of spending time, and to 
my mind argues a want of good sense. But 
gambling predicates an utter absence of every 
noble and manly virtue and principle. It is 
said that this place is let to a company (who 
also farm out similar rights at other watering- 
places) for $15,000 annually, and that, besides 
this, the company agree to expend a much lar- 
ger sum in improvements about the city. It is 
a sad sight to watch these groups of men and 
women, whether they gain or lose, and to think 
that, in a spot of so much beauty, there should 
be such appliances for crime. 

Leaving Baden-Baden, we proceed by rail to 
Heidelburg, whose chief attraction is the mag- 
nificent ruin crowning the hill, and affording one 
of the most splendid specimens in Europe of a 
12 



250 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

castle of the feudal ages. Taking a carriage we 
ascend an almost precipitous hill, lined with 
quaint old German houses, and crowded with 
women and children, many of whom would 
have been none the worse off for a little soap 
and water. Our driver could speak French, but 
every one around us was uttering German, 
which, when spoken as musically as possible, 
resembles more the sound made by the filing 
of a cross-cut saw than anything I can imagine. 
At the castle, a bright and intelligent young 
woman became our cicerone, led us over the 
ruins, and disposed of some very fine views of 
the spot. This vast and noble building, after 
having been three times burned, and having 
sustained ten sieges, was again set on fire by 
lightning, just after it had been fitted up as a 
residence for its royal proprietors : since which 
time (1764) it has remained a ruin. 

Pausing on our way down, to look at the 
venerable church of St. Peter's, to whose door 
Jerome, of Prague, long before Luther, nailed 
his Theses, declaring his dissent from the faith 
of Borne, we resume our place in the cars, and, 



MAYENCE. 251 

passing through "Worms, in sight of the cathe- 
dral where Luther nobly affirmed the doc- 
trines of the Reformation, we stop, for the 
night, at Mayence, whence the boats down the 
Rhine take their departure. The current at 
this place runs at about five or six knots or 
miles an hour. We pass a boat whose paddles 
are ceaselessly beating the water, and yet it 
never advances. It is anchored here, and is 
employed in grinding corn. At Mayence we 
meet with many objects worthy of our atten- 
tion. It was here that Guttenburg was born, 
to whose genius we are indebted for the in- 
vention of movable type, and his monument 
in bronze stands in an open square in the city. 
His first printing-office is also to be seen. There 
is a noble cathedral here, built in the tenth and 
eleventh centuries, and filled with monuments 
and statues. Across the river is stretched the 
first bridge of boats with which we meet, and 
which affords a very comfortable and safe tran- 
sit. It is in the form of a bow, in order to 
better resist the force of the current, and is so 
arranged with machinery, as to allow the passage 



252 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

down and up the river of other boats. Here 
lie at anchor a large number of tide mills, like 
that we have just described, seeming like some 
old-fashioned steamboats attempting to ascend 
the river. 

Early in the morning, we take passage in one 
of the numerous Rhine boats, for Cologne. A 
large number of these vessels leave, every day, 
both morning and evening. As regards com- 
forts and conveniences, they might be greatly 
improved, for they scarcely excel one of our or- 
dinary tug-boats in accommodations. They 
have no cabins, except down below. You 
must eat on deck, even in the rain ; and, as if 
to inconvenience you in every possible way, 
they put their small boats just where they will 
intercept your view. If you ask them why they 
don't have American steamers, they reply that 
"American boats blow up!" The Dutchmen 
prefer safety to comfort, and we don't know 
but they have made the best if not the most 
pleasant choice. There is a fine chance, how- 
ever, for an enterprising Yankee to make a for- 
tune, if he will take American models out upon 



THE RHINE. 253 

the Rhine. Four boats would be enough, two 
for day and two for night travel. We might 
teach the Germans something, and might learn 
from them, too, for that matter. "We should be 
willing to exchange ideas, and both parties 
would be benefited. ••'• ^ _ /■ 

Much of the interest of a sail down the Rhine 
depends upon the associations connected with 
it. For, in the first place, the Rhine takes its 
rise from the glaciers and snows of the Alps, 
which also feed its countless tributary streams. 
Then, it is nine hundred miles long, six hun- 
dred of which are navigable. With the excep- 
tion of that part which lies between Bingen and 
Drachenfels, the scenery is tame and compara- 
tively uninteresting. Between these two points 
there is a marked resemblance to the Highlands 
of our own Hudson river. Contrasting the 
whole of the Rhine with the Hudson, or the 
valley of the Connecticut — which I think the 
most beautiful in the world — or the majestic 
St. Lawrence — which every one ought to see — I 
cannot but believe that much of the admiration 
which has been lavished upon it is due to the 



254 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

contrasts it presents between its tame and flat 
shores, and the splendid gorge above Drachen- 
fels, and partly from the romance which is 
thrown over it by the venerable castles and 
rains which meet the eye at every turn, and 
with each of which some German legend is con- 
nected. The numerous vineyards which line its 
sides and grace every hill which rises above it, 
also add much to its beauty ; while many pic- 
turesque towns and villages, or noble fortresses, 
rising upon commanding elevations, contribute 
to its interest. The Germans certainly do un- 
derstand agriculture, and they are a most won- 
derful people in this respect. The vineyards 
from which are produced the many celebrated 
wines known in the vocabulary of the epicure, 
are grown upon terraces, overhanging the river, 
and present a very pretty appearance when seen 
from it. "When they cannot find soil enough 
among the rocks, they hang out baskets of earth, 
and cultivate the vine in them. 

As we pass downward by the celebrated Bin- 
gen on the Ehine, a small square tower is seen 
rising from an island, just below and near the 



MOUSE TOWER. 255 

junction of the Nahe with the Khine. It is the 
famous Mouse Tower of Bishop Hatto, of whom 
tradition tells this story : During a seven years' 
famine, the Bishop, in whose barn was an abun- 
dance of grain, invited the starving and clamor- 
ous poor to enter his granaries and help them- 
selves. Upon a set day they came, and when 
they had filled one of his barns, he set it on fire, 
and consumed the poor wretches, presuming 
that the country would be very much obliged 
to him for burning the rats who only ate up the 
corn. The next day news came that the real 
rats were eating up his grain, and, soon after, 
that, having devoured all they had found, they 
were about proceeding to eat up his Lordship 
also. To avoid such a fate he fled in haste to 
this tower, and laid himself down to sleep in 
peace. But his cat soon awakened him with 
the intelligence that the rats were swimming the 
Rhine. He fell upon his knees in terror, as he 
heard them gnawing away at the door, and saw 
them pouring in at the windows; and after 
whetting their teeth against the stones, they 
proceeded to finish the amiable bishop him- 



256 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

self, as a proper punishment for his enormous 
crimes ! 

As we pass onward, we plunge into the deep 
gorge of the Khine, made by the passage of a 
range of mountains across the river. Here 
begin the series of castles built by the robbers 
and highwaymen of the feudal ages, whose 
posterity are now the princes and nobility of 
Germany. Here they entrenched themselves, 
and lived in security upon the plunder which 
they gained from travellers, and to which they 
affixed the name of " toll," to give it respecta- 
bility, but which was nothing better than 
black-mail or robbery. 

Following the rapid current of the Rhine, we 
pass the bleak and bare precipice of Leirleiburg, 
with a remarkable echo, used by the German 
students for a bit of humor, to obtain an answer 
to the question, who is Burgomaster of Ober- 
weisel ? You must know that " Esel " in Ger- 
man means an " ass," or a " stupid fellow." So 
the students ask, "Who is the Burgomaster of 
Oberweisel?" "Esel," replies the echo, and 
the students are answered. Not far above us 



EH'RENBREITSTEIN. 257 

seven rocks jut out above the waters, into which 
it is said that seven beautiful coquettes, who 
had turned the heads and broken the hearts of 
all the beaux on the Ehine, were thrown for 
their obstinacy. Still farther down stands the 
summer palace of the King of Prussia. Sailing 
downward, we come to Coblentz, at the junction 
of the Blue Moselle. Here, upon a command- 
ing elevation, stands the splendid fortress of 
Ehrenbreitstein, overlooking the city, with 
which the village below the castle is connected 
by a bridge of boats. This vast citadel is the 
Gibralter of the Ehine. It fell into the hands 
of the French after a protracted siege, and was 
blown up by them when they left it after the 
peace. It is to this that Byron alludes in these 
words : 

" Here Ehrenbreitstein with her shattered wall 
Black with the miner's blast, upon her height 
Yet shows of what she was, when shell and ball 
Rebounding idly on her strength did light : 
A tower of victory ! from whence the flight 
Of baffled foes was watched along the plain : 
But peace destroyed what war could never blight, 
And laid those proud roofs bare to summer's rain, 

On which the iron shower for years had pour'd in vain I " 

But this fortress is now kept in perfect repair 
12* 



258 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

by the Prussians, is capable of holding 100,000 
men, and its magazines can contain provisions for 
a siege of ten years, with 8,000 soldiers. Four 
hundred cannons defend the walls, which are 
of great strength, and seem, in their present 
state, to defy the assaults of war. 

At this point the gorge of the river termi- 
nates, but the Ehine retains much of its roman- 
tic beauty and picturesque castles and ruins, 
until we reach the Seven Mountains, the most 
beautiful and remarkable of which is the famed 
Drachenfels, from whose summit the valley of 
the Rhine may be seen as far down as Cologne, 
and where one feels, as he gazes upon that scene 
of beauty, the power of the poet's song: 

" The castle craig of Drachenfels 
Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, 
"Whose breast of water broadly swells 
Between the banks which bear the vine, 
And hills all rich with blossomed trees. 
And fields, which promise corn and wine, 
And scattered cities, crowning these, 
Whose far white walls along them shine, 
Have strewed a scene, which I should see 
With double joy, wert thou with me!" 

From this point to the city of Cologne the 
scenery is tame and uninteresting. At Cologne 



COLOGNE. 259 

we find a city which is just beginning to recover 
from a long and fearful paralysis of trade, but 
whose history is full of interest, and whose 
churches and monuments well repay a visit. 
A bridge of boats crosses the Rhine here, and 
the railroad company have just completed a 
viaduct of great strength and beauty. This 
city was a Roman camp when Tacitus wrote 
his annals, and, as lately as the French Revolu- 
tion, the higher classes called themselves " pa- 
tricians,' 7 and the town-banners bore the Roman 
inscription of S. P. Q. R. Owing to the big- 
otry and intolerance of its Popish rulers, trade 
gradually left Cologne and found other marts. 
Meanwhile its churches and religious institu- 
tions increased, until it was filled with ecclesias- 
tics and beggars. The restrictions under which 
it languished have now been removed, and 
the city is gradually awakening from its long 
and death-like stupor. It contains numerous 
churches, which, in their decorations and relics, 
seem to reproduce the scenes of Italy. 

First in interest is the cathedral, or Bom 
Kirche, which might properly be called the 



260 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

church of magnificent intentions. It was begun 
in the year 1248, and is still incomplete. When 
finished it will be one of the finest gothic struc- 
tures in the world. The choir is completed, 
and is a gem of beauty. Its ceiling is 161 feet 
high, and its stained-glass windows, its stupen- 
dous columns and buttresses, and its beautiful 
frescoes and ornaments, combine to make it 
scarcely surpassed in Europe, and show us 
what will be the magnificence of the church 
when finished. In a small chapel, behind the 
choir, are three skulls, profusely decorated and 
surrounded by articles of great value. These 
skulls are said to be those of the Magi, who 
brought their gifts to the infant Saviour. The 
church of St. Peter's is decorated with an altar- 
piece by Kubens, representing the Crucifixion 
of the Apostle. In the church of St. Ursula, 
the walls and columns are covered with the 
bones of 11,000 virgins, who, it is said, were 
slaughtered at Cologne by the Huns, because 
they refused to violate their vows of celibacy 
There the bones are, grinning at you from every 
side,— a spectacle more ghastly than sublime. 



COLOGNE- WATER. 261 

The manufacture of Cologne-water, which 
has made this city famous, seems to be an abso- 
lute necessity to counteract the horribly impure 
atmosphere, which every one breathes in the 
filthy streets. Coleridge declares that he en- 
countered sixty or seventy distinct smells, be- 
sides several decided odors of still worse char- 
acter and name. As the result of his experi- 
ence, he wrote: 

" Ye nymphs who reign o'er sewers and sinks, 
The river Rhine, it is well known, 
Doth wash your city of Cologne ; 
But, tell me, nymphs, what power diyine, 
Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine! " 

Jean Maria Farina is the great manufacturer 
of Cologne-water, but as there is a score of that 
name in the city, it is rather difficult to know 
which is the "genuine original." 

Resuming our route down the river, which, 
from this point, is wholly flat and uninteresting, 
a night's sail, in a most uncomfortable boat 
utterly unfitted for sleeping, brings us to Arn- 
heim, the first town in Holland, whence we 
take the cars for Amsterdam. 

Everything in this wonderful country seems 



262 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

to be the reverse of all which we have hitherto 
seen. A greater part of it has been rescued 
from the sea, at an immense outlay of time, 
labor, and money, and is preserved from inun- 
dation only by constant vigilance and effort. 
Large dykes, filled in with reeds and mud, 
keep out the water. Canals make a perfect 
network throughout the country, and seem to 
be essential to the perfection of every city, ham- 
let, and farm. As we approach Amsterdam, its 
numerous windmills, their sails flying around in 
the stiff breeze, form a prominent feature of the 
landscape. The city is traversed by four great 
canals, which are intersected by various smaller 
ones, by which it is divided into ninety-five 
islands, connected by three hundred bridges. 
The town is built upon piles driven down deep 
through layers of sand and bog, into the firni 
soil beneath. Along the canal are fine rows of 
trees, and the houses have the usual quaint ap- 
pearance of an old Dutch town, with gable-ends 
to the street, and roofs which run up, like stee- 
ples, to a great height, and are surmounted 
with the old conventional vane. The city con- 



AMSTERDAM. 263 

tains a population of 212,000, and is, in most 
parts, a very model of neatness. One of the 
queer "institutions' 5 of Amsterdam is a coach 
or cart on runners, by the side of which walks 
the driver, with a rag which he occasionally 
dips in oil, and applies under the runners, to 
lessen the friction and make its motion more 
easy. Heavy burdens, however, are conveyed 
by the canals. Just opposite the city begins 
the ship canal, fifty miles in length, which 
forms the great highway between Amsterdam 
and the ocean. 

The palace is a vast building on piles, with 
many rooms well furnished and richly decorated. 
The grand hall is lined with pure Italian marble, 
and is one hundred and twenty feet in length 
by one hundred in height. The churches of 
Amsterdam, though stripped of their former or- 
naments, present some noble specimens of archi- 
tecture. The ministers wear a singular and 
quaint black gown, in the fashion of the Puri- 
tans in the time of Charles I. It is a sort of 
cloak, decorated with a ruff around the neck. 
The people sit with their hats on during service, 



264 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

like the members of the British House of Par- 
liament. The minster contains a noble organ, 
of great power and rich tone. Along the harbor 
one observes many pavilions, to which the 
citizens come in their boats, and where they sit 
and smoke their pipes, and drink their beer and 
coffee, during the summer evenings. 

From Amsterdam to Eotterdam, the road 
passes through a fine farming district, and the 
eye is charmed with the appearances of thrift 
and home comfort which everywhere abound. 
Eotterdam is but a repetition of every other 
Dutch city, with its canals, its dykes, its wind- 
mills, its tiled roofs, its fresh and cleanly-looking 
women, its unmistakably Dutch physiognomies, 
its quaint-looking boats, its droll houses, and 
droller people, that, according to Butler, in his 
Hudibras : 

" always ply the pump, and never think 

They can be safe but at the rate they sink ; 
That live as if they had been run aground, 
And, when they die, are cast away and drowned. 
A land that rides at anchor, and is moored I 
In which they do not live, but — go aboard I" 

With all that is quaint and strange, Holland 



HOLLAND. 265 

is a country which deserves the respect of the 
world. It is a wonderful example of the triumph 
of industry and science over nature. Its mer- 
chants have forced commerce and trade thither. 
Its farmers are growing rich upon land which 
they have reclaimed from the sea. Its ships 
float above the house-tops. Its croaking frogs 
in the marshes look down upon the swallows 
which twitter in the chimneys ! Holland was the 
early home of the Reformation. It has encour- 
aged learning and freedom, and long before our 
Revolution it had a liberal and just government, 
modelled, like that of the church, upon a scheme 
which divided the power between the rulers and 
the people. Nor can one fail of seeing every- 
where around him, as he journeys through the 
country, that industry, order, intelligence and 
virtue, which are the essential elements of a 
nation's greatness. 

Leaving Rotterdam by steamer, we proceed 
by a pleasant sail to Antwerp. A number of 
cities are passed on our way, among which is 
the famous Dort, or Dordricht, celebrated as the 
place of meeting of the Synod which settled the 



266 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

doctrine of the Reformed Church of Holland. 
We pause at Antwerp, a fine and prosperous 
commercial city, to visit the cathedral, in which 
hangs the celebrated altar-piece, by Rubens, of 
the Descent from the Cross. The pulpits and 
confessionals of this church are of rare beauty. 
The cathedral itself is of great size and fine pro- 
portions. 

Leaving Antwerp just at sundown, a pleasant 
ride of two hours brings us to Brussels, which, 
in its neatness, taste and fashion, is a miniature 
Paris. Our first business in the morning is to 
visit the battle-ground of Waterloo. We pur- 
sue the same route which the English army 
took. A few miles out we were joined by Ser- 
geant Mundy — a brother-in-law of the former 
cicerone — whose graphic description of the action 
adds greatly to the interest of a visit to that 
spot. A vast mound, two hundred feet high, 
has been thrown up as a monument of the 
dreadful conflict. We inspected the whole field : 
the spot where the battle began ; the farm-house 
so often retaken ; the trench before it in which 
the wounded hid from the cannon balls; the 



WATERLOO. 267 

spot where the Old Guard stood and melted 
away before the stern armies of England. 
Everything was marked out for us by our guide, 
and we rehearsed the entire battle. We re- 
turned from this spot, filled with these mighty 
memories, and recalling this most tremendous 
conflict of modern times, and the brave men, 
gathered in Belgium's capital, who marched forth 
over this very road — to death. 

" And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, 

Dewy with Nature's tear-drops, as they pass, 

Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, 

Over the unreturning brave,— alas 1 

E'er evening to be trodden like the grass, 

"Which now beneath them, but above shall grow 

In its next verdure, when this fiery mass 

Of living valor, rolling on the foe, 

And burning with high hope, shall moulder, cold and low. 

We spent a day in looking over Brussels, and 
then taking the cars for Ostend passed through 
a country which was giving every indication of 
thrift and industry. 



XII. 

ENGLAND. 

A SMALL and utterly comfortless steamer 
received us at Ostend, a city exceedingly 
well contrived to make us happy to leave the 
Continent. For the last time my passport was 
inspected by the authorities of Belgium, after 
which, as a sort of refreshing revenge, I thrust 
it down into the darkest corner of my carpet 
bag. As we steamed away from the harbor, a 
most uncomfortable swell began to give to us 
indications of what we were to expect, and as 
the wind and waves seemed determined to make 
a night of it, most of the passengers found it 
necessary to retire to the cabin, and the sailors 
were glad to get as far as possible from the for- 
ward deck, which for several hours was com- 
pletely washed by the heavy seas which came 



AN ENGLISH INN. 269 

tumbling in upon us without so much as saying 
" By your leave ." It was slightly amusing to see 
a lady, who had been boasting somewhat of her 
nautical experiences, and her freedom from the 
usual penalties which the sea exacted, stretched 
out upon a lounge in all the horror of sea-sick- 
ness, with an awful visage which betokened 
anything but a sound and healthy state of the 
stomach. 

At last we reach England, pass the light- 
house of Dover, the ship hauls into her berth, 
the officers of the customs take charge of our 
baggage, and we find our way up a huge flight 
of stairs to the street, and to a hotel near by. 
There is an air of comfort about an English inn, 
which one finds nowhere on the Continent,— at 
least we did not. There is a tempting look 
about those huge and juicy rounds of beef which 
the waiter sets down before a hungry traveller 
that is utterly indescribable. And the rosy- 
cheeked, fresh-looking and good-natured maid- 
servant, with her pretty white cap and apron, 
who attends to your comforts, and bustles about 
all in smiles and ribbons, looks so thoroughly 



270 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

English, that a traveller froni the Continent 
would know he was in England if he had been 
taken there while asleep. 

Dover is a city of about twenty-two thousand 
souls, encompassed by a splendid range of hills 
and cliffs of chalk, upon which are several im- 
portant fortresses. The castle is an immense 
structure, which is supposed to have been found- 
ed by the Romans, and which was afterwards 
added to and improved by the Normans and 
Saxons. Overlooking the sea is an immense 
cliff of chalk, three hundred and fifty feet high. 
It is on this spot that Shakspeare has laid some 
of the scenes in his stupendous tragedy of King 
Lear. It was this cliff that Edgar described to 
his blind father ; 

" How fearful 

And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low. 

* The murmuring surge 
That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafe 
Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more 
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight 

Topple down headlong." 

Passing through the tunnel under this cliff 
we travel through a country of exceeding beauty, 
where every inch of land seems to be in the 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 271 

highest state of cultivation. As the road enters 
London it passes over a series of arches "built 
above the housetops in many places, and landing 
us within a moment's walk of the famous London 
Bridge. 

The Sabbath following our arrival we attend 
ed services in Westminster Abbey, the place of 
all others we had most desired to see in London, 
for its monumental collections, and as the re- 
pository of the dust of England's mighty dead. 
A small part only of the Abbey is appropriated 
to religious services. 

We took an early opportunity in the succeed- 
ing week to spend a part of a day in visiting 
this vast edifice. Its origin dates back to the 
seventh century, from which time it has been 
enlarged and beautified until it has reached its 
present stately appearance. It is built in the 
form of a Latin cross, three hundred and seventy- 
five feet by two hundred, with a height of one 
hundred and one feet. The interior of the church 
presents a fine example of Gothic architecture, 
but it is the wondrous collection of monuments 
which forms the glory of this pile. 



272 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Beginning at the Poet's corner, we pass thro' 
a vast array of noble memorials which show that 
England does not forget to honor the memory 
of departed worth and genins. Almost every 
form of monnmental sculpture is here seen. 
Addison is surrounded by the Muses. Handel 
rests with his left arm upon a group of musical 
instruments, listening with fixed attention to a 
seraph's harp, while before him is a scroll on 
which is engraved the theme of one of his noblest 
songs, "I know that my Kedeemer liveth." 
Shakspeare stands leaning upon a pedestal on 
which appears the grand and sublime utterance 
of his Prospero in the Tempest : 

" The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, 
And, like this unsubstantial pageant, faded. 
Leave not a rack behind." 

A sculptured tablet with the quaint epitaph, 
a O rare Ben Johnson," is the memorial of that 
famed poet. Passing into the north transept, 
magnificent monuments and statues to the mem- 
ory of Pit, Fox, Canning, and Sir Isaac New- 
ton, and a host of the great names of England 



CHAPELS. 273 

and the world surround you everywhere. But 
the most interesting portion of the edifice is 
found in the chapels which commence with the 
Poet's corner, and fill up the space in the south 
transept of the cathedral. In the chapel of St. 
Edward, are twenty monuments of the nobility 
of England, next to which is the chapel of St. 
Nicholas, with a large altar tomb in the centre, 
to the memory of the parents of the Duke of 
Buckingham. But the great wonder of this 
structure is the chapel of Henry VII. It was 
begun in 1512 by that monarch, who was buried 
in the place not long after its completion. A 
flight of steps leads to it; it consists of a cen- 
tral aisle, with five smaller chapels at the end. 
The principal object is the lofty tomb of Henry 
VII and his queen, Elizabeth. It is admirably 
executed, and ornamented with the statues of 
saints. Upon a slab of black marble lie the 
efilgies of the royal pair. As we pass around 
the chapel, we notice the noble monuments of 
Queen Elizabeth; of the two princes murdered 
by Bichard; of Mary Queen of Scots; of Mar- 
garet Douglass, the mother of Lord Darnley. 
13 



274 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Here, too, are laid the remains of George II and 
Caroline, whose ashes lie mingled in one com- 
mon grave. The stalls of the chapel are of 
richly carved oak. Passing away from this 
mausoleum of the mighty dead, we visit the 
chapel of St. Paul, with its altar tomb of Ludo- 
wick Pobsart, the standard-hearer of Edward V 
at the battle of Aginconrt, and beautiful statues 
of Bramley, the privy counsellor of the queen at 
the trial of Mary Queen of Scots, and of Watt, 
whose genius has made his name immortal. 

The chapel of Edward the Confessor is rich 
in historic recollections. His mausoleum, is in 
the centre of the chapel, and surrounding it are 
the tombs of Edward I and III, Henry III and 
V, Philip, and Eleanor, the noble consort of 
Edward I. 

Just opposite the Abbey is the vast pile of 
buildings devoted to the use of the British Par- 
liament, and where we had the pleasure of lis- 
tening to an interesting debate in the House of 
Lords upon the India Question. 

The arrangement of the House differs greatly 
from that of our noble Capitol at Washington. 



HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 275 

The seats are on either side of the presiding 
officer, who occupies the woolsack, behind which 
is the throne appropriated to her majesty in her 
visits to the House of Lords. The new Houses 
of Parliament stand upon the Thames, and have 
a river front of nine hundred feet. They are mag- 
nificent buildings, well worthy the nation whose 
government here has its centre. There are three 
principal towers, the largest and most imposing 
of which is the Victoria tower, through which 
her majesty enters the building, and which com- 
municates with the Norman porch, so called 
from the frescoe illustrations of the history of 
the Norman kings. If we pass eastward from 
this point down the Strand, and the streets that 
are its continuation, and turn down a narrow 
court to the right, we come to the famous Tem- 
ple, the home of the legal profession for genera- 
tions. Here are quiet nooks where for ages the 
great men of England lived and thought. Here 
Chaucer wrote, Ealeigh studied, Goldsmith lived 
and died, and Cooke, Seldon, Beaumont, Burke, 
Johnson, and Cooper achieved an immortality 
of fame. Here stands the Temple church, occu- 



276 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

pied by the benchers and students of law, and 
rich with its quaint monuments of the old 
knights who founded the church in the year 
1185. The choral services here are said to be 
unsurpassed in London. Emerging from this 
spot, we pause at Temple Bar, the only relic of 
the old London Wall in this direction. This is 
the western boundary of the city built by Sir 
Christopher Wren, and having in niches, statues 
of Elizabeth and James I, and Charles I and II. 
Here the heads of executed traitors used to be 
hung until as late as 1773. 

On certain occasions a sort of child's play is 
acted here by Royalty and the Lord Mayor of 
London. The Queen, on driving toward the 
city, finds the gates closed against her, the her- 
ald then sounds a trumpet, when the Lord 
Mayor and Corporation demand her pleasure — 
on being informed that the Queen wishes to 
enter the city, these very worthy gentlemen 
proceed to give her the keys, the gates fly open, 
and the procession moves on. The chief differ- 
ence between this ceremony and that sometimes 
enacted by the aldermen of our own metropolis, 



BUSINESS HAUNTS. 277 

of presenting a stranger with the freedom of the 
city, is that, in London it is part of a time-hon- 
ored custom, and performed with the dignity 
and respect which becomes a noble queen, and a 
nobler woman, while with us the whole thing 
is a farce, too often followed by scenes of riot 
and drinking, which do not disgrace the actors 
in it simply because they are already sunk so 
low, as to make it impossible to sink lower in 
the regard of the public. 

Passing from Temple Bar, we enter upon the 
haunts of business, where every step we take 
recalls to us some new idea of the immense 
wealth of this mighty city. Yonder is the 
Bank of England, covering an area of eight 
acres of ground, with its buildings and offices, 
giving employment to eight hundred clerks, 
whose annual salaries amount to about $1,100,- 
000. Hard by is the Royal Exchange, in the 
front of which stands an equestrian statue of 
the Duke of "Wellington, and from which centre 
the commerce of the world is regulated. Turn 
where we will at this point, we enter streets 
whose names are the very synonymes of busi- 



278 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

ness. There is Cornhill glittering with jewelry- 
shops, and Leadenhall street, where stand the 
massive buildings of the East India Company, 
and in a narrow passage called Capel street, is 
the Stock Exchange, with its gamblers, its lame 
ducks, its bulls, and its bears. Passing onward 
toward the Thames, we come under the shadow 
of Old St. Paul's, only one hundred feet 
shorter than St. Peter's of Rome — modelled 
after that famous structure, and filled with sta- 
tues of the great men of England. Its interior 
loses much of its effect by the screen which 
shuts off one of the naves of the church for the 
purpose of religious services which are held 
here daily. Turning out of our way a moment, 
to visit an ancient church in Bread street, we 
pause to read an inscription upon its side, which 
informs us that in that old church Milton was 
baptized. The graceful eulogy of Dryden is 
added beneath this notice : 

" Three poets in three distant ages born, 
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn ; 
The first in loftiness of thought surpassed ; 
The next in majesty ; in both the last : 
The force of nature could no farther go, 
To make the third she joined the other two." 



THE TOWER. 279 

As we pass on, we pause to look in upon 
another ancient and venerable church, whose 
chimes are ringing now as they were when 
Whittington heard them — the old chimes of 
Bow-bells — which still seem to say, a Turn 
again, Whittington, Lord Mayor of London." 
Making our way through endless mazes of 
streets, we come to the monument built to com- 
memorate the great fire which once swept over 
this part of the city. Passing still onward, we 
come at length to the Tower, whose history is 
almost the history of England, so intimately is 
it connected with the scenes which have marked 
its grand events. Obtaining tickets at the en- 
trance to the grounds, we are guided by a per- 
son dressed in the style of a beef-eater of the 
olden time. It is useless to attempt a descrip- 
tion of the emotions which stir within a man 
who has English blood in his veins, and who 
has read the history of that nation, as he enters 
this spot. Once a fortress, then a palace, then 
a prison, and now the grand state show-house 
of England — we are carried back to the dawn 
of her national greatness. Yonder, by the very 



280 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

gate at which we enter, were found the bodies 
of the murdered princes sacrificed to the am- 
bition of Richard III. There stand the effi- 
gies of warriors, in the armor and dress of every 
age. Yonder is the chapel before whose altar 
are buried the wives of Henry VIII, who fell 
by the axe, victims of his cruel jealousy. Here 
are the tombs of Essex, who was the favorite of 
Elizabeth; and Lady Jane Grey and her hus- 
band. Here is the dungeon where Sir Walter 
Raleigh was confined, and just before it is the 
block on which poor Anne Boleyn, and others, 
laid their heads, and the marks of the axe are 
still upon it. In the Beauchamp tower are the 
autographs of many of the prisoners who were 
brought here to await their death. Here the 
Earl of Warwick wrote his name, and the Duke 
of Clarence, and underneath is the word Jane, 
placed there by the gentle Lady Jane Grey. 
Yonder the two princes were murdered, and 
there the Duke of Clarence was drowned in a 
butt of Malmsey wine. The arrangement of 
ancient arms cannot fail to interest the visitor. 
Every conceivable weapon of offence and de- 



RECOLLECTIONS. 281 

fence, from the earliest ages to the present time, 
line the walls, and are so placed as to produce 
a most pleasing effect. It would seem impossi- 
ble that such objects could be placed in such 
beautiful combinations. They are an epitome 
of warlike engines of every age and nation — 
the armor of mail, the battle-axe, the spear, the 
lance, the pike, and the halberd of the middle 
ages, are here contrasted with the splendid arms 
of the present time. There is a spell about this 
wonderful building which seems to shut out the 
present and bear one backward along the stream 
of time to the dark and shadowy past. You 
think of it as a fortress when it stood as the de- 
fence of its monarch, not against the assaults of 
a foreign foe, but the shock of internal convul- 
sions. It was the centre of power when Ste- 
phen usurped the throne, and John and Ed- 
ward II and Richard II. It was the object of 
strife when Charles I and his Parliament began 
the contest, which ended with his life, and 
through all these revolutions it remained im- 
pregnable. Then the scene changes, and we 
think of it as a palace, and try to reproduce the 



282 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

scenes which have here been witnessed. Here 
were held the magnificent royal festivities of 
Henry III and Eleanor. From this spot Rich- 
ard II went forth in white robes to be crowned 
at Westminster Abbey, and returned again only 
at length to resign his crown into the hands of 
his uncle, and to die a violent death. Here, 
gay and brilliant tournaments were held in the 
time of Henry VII. From this spot his Queen 
Elizabeth, of York, passed to her coronation in 
splendid robes of white and gold, and again 
was carried forth in a shroud. In these halls, 
Henry VIII welcomed his six queens with won- 
derful and brilliant entertainments. Here came 
Anne Boleyn, escorted by a splendid civic pro- 
cession, and in three short years, after having 
been pronounced guilty of a crime of which his- 
tory acquits her fully, she lifted up her eyes to 
heaven and said, "O Father! O Father! Thou 
who art the Truth and the Life ! Thou knowest 
I have not deserved this death." Here she laid 
her head upon the block, and closed her short 
but brilliant career. Here the bloody Mary 
held her court, and here Elizabeth was wel- 



THE TOWER AS A PRISON. 283 

corned to the throne. From a palace to a pri- 
son is a strong contrast, yet it is here presented 
to the mind in all its startling power. Yonder 
is the traitor's gate, beneath whose dark and 
gloomy portals, genius and greatness and royalty 
have passed from all the dreams of ambition, 
from the gaiety and splendor of the court to the 
prison, the fetter, the faggot, and the block. 
Here the terrible tragedies of Richard Ill's 
reign were enacted. Jane Shore was immured 
within these walls, and released only to die in 
poverty and suffering, and when the first glim- 
mering light of the Reformation dawned on 
England, this place became the instrument of 
Popish tyranny and cruelty. Cobham was shut 
up here before he was burnt at St. Giles', and 
Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer were prisoners 
in this tower before they were burned at Ox- 
ford. But we must leave these scenes and 
memories, after glancing at the splendid regalia 
in the jewel-room, used by the sovereigns of 
England at their Coronation and on State occa- 
sions. Here is the anointing spoon of the an- 
cient regalia, and the crown of Charles II, with 



284 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

that of Victoria, and the one to be used by her 
son, when he shall come to the throne. Leav- 
ing this spot, where every object is of intense 
interest, we visit the tunnel under the Thames, 
useless, almost, except as a mart for the sale of 
curiosities; and, emerging from this wonderful 
work, we take one of the small steamers which 
ply upon the river, and visit Greenwich with 
its far-famed Observatory, from which the nau- 
tical time of the world is calculated. 

Taking the cars to the Crystal Palace at Sy- 
denham, the train lands us under a vast saloon, 
from which a flight of stairs leads directly to the 
main building. The grounds are laid out with 
fine taste, and the fountains are magnificent. 
One half of the Palace is devoted to ancient art 
and sculpture, and the other half to all the 
modern forms of architecture, science and skill. 
The great transept is decorated with gigantic 
equestrian statues, fountains, flowers and trees ; 
while on either hand are perfect reproductions 
of the architecture of every age. Here is a 
house of Pompeii, and there an Egyptian court, 
further on is one of Greece and Rome, Assyria 



BRITISH MUSEUM. 285 

and the Alhambra. On every side are magnifi" 
cent decorations, and works of art and taste, 
which afford themes of study for days and 
weeks. 

Returning to the city to take a fresh start 
westward, and, passing through St. James's 
Square, where stands the palace of the queen, 
we arrive at Regent's Park, where we spend 
half a day in looking through the numer- 
ous collections of animals, which are finely ar- 
ranged at the Zoological Gardens, and are 
provided with the climate and scenery of their 
native lands. Every variety of bird, reptile, 
and animal is here to be met with. The vulture 
and eagle have their rocks and trees in which 
they are wont to build their nests. The trout 
swims in his own clear stream of running water ; 
the crocodile basks upon the sand by the water's 
edge; while the huge hippopotamus sports at 
the bottom of the pool prepared for his home. 

The whole of this vast garden is a noble 
monument of skill, wealth and intelligence. But 
the British Museum, which claims our attention, 
surpasses even this in its vast and varied trea- 



286 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

sures of knowledge. It Is a grand repository 
of every curiosity of nature and of art, of the 
past and the present. Inimense halls are devot- 
ed to Egyptian, Assyrian, Grecian and Roman 
antiquities. The Library is a magnificent col- 
lection of typographical curiosities, containing 
works of rare beauty and value, manuscripts of 
great antiquity, and specimens of every form of 
printing. 

The Reading Room is a vast circular Hall, 
second only to the Pantheon, and fitted up with 
a library of 80,000 volumes, and reading desks 
for 300 persons. Here men of literature may 
come and investigate and study, with as much 
quiet as if in their own homes. We cannot look 
over this splendid Museum, and not obtain a 
new evidence of the wealth and grandeur of a 
nation which can make such arrangements for 
the intellectual wants of the people. 

But it were utterly useless to attempt any- 
thing like a full description of London. My 
last Sabbath evening was spent in hearing one 
of its celebrated preachers, Dr. Gumming of the 
Presbyterian Church. I went early, and was 



HAMPTON COURT. 287 

shown to a comfortable seat at once, although 
usually strangers are compelled to wait until the 
pew-holders are seated. A vast throng were 
gathered together and listened with fixed atten- 
tion to a noble discourse from the Pastor. After 
service I sent my card to the Dr., and was in- 
vited into his study, where I spent a pleasant 
half hour with him in speaking of the prospects 
of the Presbyterian Church in England, and of 
the evidence of the success of the efforts of its 
ministers and people. 

Leaving London by the cars, we visit Hamp- 
ton Court, which was built by Cardinal Wolsey 
in the height of his glory and power. The 
Palace covers about eight acres, and has room 
for the accommodation of several thousands of 
guests. The pictures alone, as they are arrang- 
ed in long halls, number more than one thou- 
sand, and a pamphlet of nearly one hundred 
pages is necessary to give even a general outline 
of the objects of historic interest which every- 
where present themselves. The gardens and 
walks are of great extent and beauty. 

Returning from this spot to London, we take 



288 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the cars for "Windsor, and are set down within 
a few minutes walk of the Castle, one of the re- 
sidences of the Queen. Its history dates back 
to the time of the Saxon Kings. William the 
Conqueror built a noble structure, and succeed- 
ing kings enlarged, strengthened and beautified 
it, until it rose to its present shape and size. 
Edward III was born here, and erected, for the 
order of the Garter, the Chapel of St. George, 
which was afterwards replaced by the present 
church. This is a [most interesting spot, filled 
with the tombs and memorials of the mighty 
dead. Edward IV is buried here ; and here lie 
the ashes of George III and Queen Charlotte, 
with all the succeeding monarchs and members 
of the royal family. A portion of the Castle is 
devoted to a collection of works of historical in- 
terest, and to some fine paintings by the ancient 
masters. 

Leaving Windsor Castle, we cross the Thames 
in sight of the famous Eton College, and arrive 
at Oxford, the great seat of learning and liter- 
ature. In the reign of Alfred, Oxford was a 
place for schools. Here Wickliffe taught and 



OXFORD- 289 

Latimer, Ridley and Cranmer died for the faith. 
A cross in one of the streets marks the spot 
where the stake stood, and a fine monument 
near at hand commemorates the event. There 
are twenty colleges, and five halls, many of great 
antiquity, in this city. The grounds around 
them are everything an English student could 
wish. Our guide, whose breath told of a very 
strong preference for English "beer, with a slight 
disposition to brandy and whiskey, took us 
through every part of the College that was 
worth seeing, even to the dining-room and 
kitchen. We looked over the Parks with their 
fine herds of deer, belonging to the " fellows," 
and they are the only dears they are allowed to 
have while they retain their fellowship, for they 
must remain bachelors. Here Addison walked 
and studied, and here many a noble British 
scholar has lived and thought and prepared for 
himself an undying fame. 

Leaving Oxford, we pass to Stratford on 
Avon, the home of Shakspeare. As I entered 
the omnibus I directed the conductor to set us 
down at the oldest inn in the town. I felt that in 



290 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

such a place nothing new should be seen on the 
errand on which I was coming. We were 
dropped at the Red Horse Inn, the very spot of 
all others I could have wished to make my home. 
Nothing could be more comfortable than that 
cosy chamber into which I was shown, and 
where I lay down to sleep, and when I arose 
early the next morning, and entered the snug 
parlor, the first book on which I laid my hand 
was the Sketch Book of Washington Irving, 
and as I opened to his description of Stratford 
on Avon, I found that I was in the same inn and 
the same parlor in which he wrote it. Our first 
visit was to the birth-place of Shakspeare, 
which, as in the days of Irving, was shown by 
a garrulous female who usually succeeds in dis- 
posing of a number of relics of Stratford, in addi- 
tion to the entrance fee which she receives. The 
old chair of Shakspeare is still shown, which, 
although it has passed through many changes 
of seats and sides, is still looked on as a sacred 
relic of the immortal poet. But there is no 
doubt as to the house where the Bard of Avon 
first saw the light. Turning away towards the 



STRATFORD ON AVON. 291 

old church, we pass the Guild Hall, in a niche 
of whose walls is a statue of the Poet, leaning 
upon his hand, and pointing to a scroll, on 
which are the beautiful words of his Midsum- 
mer Night's Dream — 

" The Poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, 

Doth glance from Heav'n to Earth, from Earth to Heav'n, 

And as imagination bodies forth 

The form of things unknown, the Poet's pen 

Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing 

A local habitation and a name." 

Upon the border of the base of the statue are 
the words — 

" Take him for all in all, 

"We ne'er shall look upon his like again." 

Passing by the school house where he was ed- 
ucated, we turn down towards the gently sloping 
banks of the Avon, where stands the old church 
in which the boy Shakspeare worshipped, and 
where the immortal Poet is buried. Long ave- 
nues of dark trees lead from the main road to 
the sacred edifice around whose venerable tower 
the rooks and swallows are flying in countless 
numbers. Here, amid many monuments, is 
the tomb of Shakspeare. Upon the wall his 
bust is placed, and beneath a simple slab his re- 



292 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

mains are laid. Upon the slab are the well 
known words : 

Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbeare 
To digg the dust enclosed heare ; 
Blest be ye man yt spares these stones, 
And curst be he yt moves my bones." 

Turning from the scene, a short ride brings 
ns to the cottage of Ann Hathaway, where 
Shakspeare found his wife. It is a plain and 
rude dwelling, but there is a charm thrown 
around the spot. We enter it, and find the old 
settle on which he used to rest, and sit down in 
the broad chimney, where he doubtless often sat 
and whiled away his evening with the young 
object of his love. A descendant of the Hatha- 
way family still lives there, although the place 
has passed out of their hands. Taking the 
mail stage toward Warwick, we pass the grounds 
of the Lacy family, before one of whose an- 
cestors the young Shakspeare is said to have 
been brought for deer-stalking, and whom he 
has immortalized as his Justice Shallow, in the 
"Merry Wives of Windsor." As we rode by 
the spot, a crowd of deer were roaming over the 
woodlands, bringing forcibly to our mind the 



KENILWORTH. 293 

scenes in the life of the Poet which drove him 
forth to London, where his career as a dramatist 
began. Passing through scenery, which is the 
very perfection of an English landscape, we reach 
Warwick with its noble castle, and Kenilworth 
with its magnificent ruins, the scene of one of Sir 
Walter Scott's works and possessing a deep in- 
terest in its associations with the age of Eliza- 
beth. We paused here for a few hours, to visit 
this spot and refresh our minds with its memo- 
ries ; thence by rail to Coventry, through which 
poor Jack Falstaff was ashamed to march his 
ragged army ; to York, an ancient and venerable 
town, with a noble Cathedral, and many inter- 
esting monuments of the past. Another day of 
travel through a region filled with manufactories 
of iron, and cities and towns which are thriving 
and busy, and rapidly growing in wealth and 
population, and we come to the borders of Scot- 
land, where we rest for the night. We wonder 
not that the Englishman is fond of his country. 
We love to think that with him we have a com- 
mon interest and origin. We can respond 
Amen to the prayer that daily goes up from 



294 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

thousands of hearts, "God save the Queen." 
Every step we have taken calls us back to a 
mighty and wonderful past, and points to a no- 
ble future. Her institutions, and her govern- 
ment, bear the mark of strength and stability. 
Her people are free. Eoyalty as it is now un- 
derstood, is the very opposite of oppression and 
tyranny. The evils which exist will disappear in 
the progress of a sound and liberal and enlight- 
ened policy. 

May the time never come when we shall be 
aught but united with her in the bonds of a 
firm and enduring friendship. The Christian 
and Scholar will love England for all that she 
has been and all that she is. Demagogues may 
affect to despise and hate her, but men of 
thought, and who reverence the great and good, 
will remember that, amid the noblest lights of 
the Church and the State, England's sons have 
ever been found. Her Poets and Orators, her 
Heroes and Statesmen, her Sages, her Preachers 
and her Martyrs have made for themselves names 
which shall ever be remembered. Every field 
has a story — every hill and valley bears some 



ENGLAND. 295 

witness to the past, and amid many a tale of 
shame and crime and oppression, also testifies to 
the power of truth, the light of the Gospel, the 
glory of the Chnrch, and the Providence of God 
employed in her behalf 



XIII. 
SCOTLAND, IRELAND AND HOME. 

THE road which leads from Newcastle to 
Berwick, after passing for several miles in 
full view of the German Ocean, at length crosses 
the Tweed upon an immense bridge, resting 
upon twenty-eight arches, and rising one hun- 
dred and thirty-four feet in height, at the end of 
which lies the first town in Scotland. It was 
for long years the scene of many a fierce en- 
counter during the border wars, until late in the 
fifteenth century it fell into the hands of the 
English. From its walls we had a noble view 
of the sea, and the Holy Islands, on which are 
the ruins of the ancient abbey. Leaving Ber- 
wick for the north, the road enters a country, 
eveiy hill and valley of which is full of historic 
interest, while presenting, also, many a rich 



SCOTTISH SCENERY. 297 

natural scene, heightened and improved by labor 
and taste. Not far from Berwick, is Halidon 
Hill, where the English defeated the Scotch in 
the year 1313. Beyond this is Norham Castle, 
situated upon a steep bank that overhangs the 
Tweed. Here is laid the opening scene of Sir 
Walter Scott's Marmion. 

"Day set on Norham's castled steep, 
And Tweed's fair river broad and deep." 

Not far from this spot is the place where 
Edward I met the nobility of Scotland to settle 
the dispute concerning the Scottish crown, be- 
tween Bruce and Baliol. Still beyond is the 
town of Coldstream, whence came the Cold- 
stream guards, so famous in the wars of England. 
As we are whirled onward, we pass at brief in- 
tervals majestic ruins and lovely country seats, 
and noble old castles which have become cele- 
brated by the traditions of the nation, or the 
songs of its poets. Yonder are the ruins of 
Roxburg Castle, and there a splendid abbey 
once stood, and the lofty walls yet tell the story 
of its beauty. Upon this rocky and conspicuous 
elevation stands the Smailholm Tower — the 
14 



298 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

scene of Scott's Eve of St. John, and beautifully 
described in one of his introductory epistles to 
' Marmion — 

" A barren scene and wild 
Where huge cliffs were rudely piled, 
But ever and anon between, 
Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green." 

Passing onward a few miles we are dropped 
at the Melrose station, a short walk from the 
old abbey, one of the finest specimens of gothic 
architecture in Scotland. We are met at the 
depot by a Scotch friend who had come from 
Edinburgh to welcome us, and whose kind atten- 
tions we shall not soon forget. Our first visit 
was to the abbey. The church is the only part 
which now remains ; the best preserved parts of 
which are the choir and transept. The whole 
of the vast fabric is profusely decorated with 
rich and elaborate carvings. Its windows and 
arches, and doorways, grand even in their ruins, 
tell us plainly, at what expense, and with what 
skill this edifice was reared. The abbey owes 
much of its celebrity to the Scottish bard who 
kas in his I^ay of the Last Minstrel described 
with all his wondrous power the beautifully 



MELROSE ABBEY. 299 

fretted roof, and the whole scene that opens to 
the eye as we stand and look up at these mas- 
sive ruins. In the church yard one of the finest 
views of the abbey is obtained, and this is the 
point from which the pictures of the ruins are 
usually taken. In wandering through the tombs 
that fill these grounds, I noticed a stone nearly 
100 years old, on which was the following quaint 
but striking inscription : 

" The Earth goeth on the Earth, 
Glistening like gold — 
The Earth goeth to the Earth 
Sooner than it wold — 
The Earth builds on the Earth 
Castles and towers — 
The Earth says to the Earth, 
All shall be ours." 

Leaving this scene we cross the Tweed by a 
slender suspension bridge to the home of our 
friend Mr. Elliott ; the house having been built 
and once occupied by Sir David Brewster. The 
view from the grounds is one of great beauty, 
presenting a rural scene of hill and valley, 
mountain and stream, that impresses itself in- 
delibly upon the mind. Here a warm and 
friendly Scotch hospitality awaited us, which 



300 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

we find ourselves still recalling with pleasure. 
Entering the family carriage after dinner, a de- 
lightful drive of two or three miles brought us 
to Abbottsford, the former home of Sir Walter 
Scott. The house is full of interest, as connect- 
ed with the history of the great novelist. The 
relics which he had collected in his lifetime are 
worthy of notice, among which is a door from 
the old Tolbooth of Edinburgh, and the pulpit 
in which Ralph Erskine preached. In a small 
closet adjoining the study are the clothes which 
Sir Walter wore, and in a room overlook- 
ing the valley of the Tweed, he breathed his 
last. The family who now occupy Abbottsford 
are Roman Catholics, and most of the servants 
are of the same religious belief. But we found 
an old man in charge of some part of the grounds, 
who was a Scotch Presbyterian, and who was re- 
tained here partly from his long connection with 
the place and the family of Sir Walter. He 
spoke feelingly of the gradual extinction of the 
line ; the only living grandchild being a young 
girl of feeble constitution, so that the probabil- 
ity was strong that the man whose great dream 



EDINBURGH. 301 

was to leave behind him a long line of descend- 
ants to preserve his name and family, would 
soon have none in whose veins his blood should 
flow. Leaving Abbottsford and the noble hills 
of Eildon behind us, we pass the ruins of 
Crichton Castle, described so beautifully in 
Marmion, and the stately tower of Borthwick 
Castle, and at length coming in sight of Arthur's 
seat, Anthony's chapel and Holyrood, are whirl- 
ed through a tunnel and enter the station of 
Edinburgh, built in the valley between the new 
town and the old, and lying in the very heart of 
the city, and within a moment's walk of its 
principal hotels. I was at Edinburgh twice. 
On my first visit I thought it was the finest 
city I had yet seen, and when I had passed over 
my tour on the continent and returned to the 
spot, my impressions were only deepened, that 
for picturesque beauty, for wondrous historic in- 
terest, for its noble and commanding situation, 
for its strange contrasts of modern art with the 
grotesque architecture of other ages, Edinburgh 
is the most interesting city in Europe. 

Delivering some letters from America, I found 



302 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

friends whose warm-hearted hospitality I shall 
not soon forget. To Mr. Oliphant especially 
was I greatly indebted both for the enjoyment 
of pleasant intercourse with his family, and for 
his personal attentions as a companion in my ex- 
plorations of the scenes in and around the city. 
Familiar as he was with every spot that history 
had made memorable, I found myself in the com- 
pany of a christian gentleman, ready and willing 
to put me in the way of seeing all that was most 
of interest in Edinburgh, and who led me to 
places which I had wished above all others to 
see. 

The city is surrounded by, and built upon 
hills, which add greatly to its beauty. If we 
take a position at the old palace of Holyroocl, 
we find ourselves in a valley lying at the foot 
of several elevations, To the south and east is 
a mountain almost 800 feet in height, along 
which are the famous Salisbury Craigs, and 
around its base is the Queeii's Drive. Just above 
us to the north lies Gait on Hill, crowned with 
noble monuments to Stuart, Playfair, Nelson and 
Burns. Looking west the old town rises like a 



HOLYROOD. 303 

wedge with its tliiii end towards us, to the 
height of 400 feet, where stands the noble old 
castle of Edinburgh. On either side of this hill, 
the summit of which is the famous High Street, 
is a valley, that to the right being the Prince's 
Garden, formed by drying up an old loch, whose 
waters divided the city, and that on the left be- 
ing the old Cow Grate. Let us enter the venera- 
ble palace of Holyrood, the ancient home of Scot- 
tish royalty. It is built in the form of a quad- 
rangle, with a court 90 feet square in the centre. 
The apartments which have the most thrilling 
interest are those of Queen Mary, whose char- 
acter and history have thrown a charm over the 
whole scene. Ascend the stairs and you enter 
the chamber of the unhappy Queen, which has 
remained unaltered since she left it. Yonder 
through that low door, half concealed by some 
old tapestry, is the cabinet out of which Bizzio 
was dragged and murdered, and the stains of 
his blood still darken the floor of the hall. On 
the north side of the palace are the ruins of the 
abbey of Holyrood, founded by David I in 
1128. Charles I fitted it up as a chapel to give 



304 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

tlie Scotch a model of Episcopal worship, and 
was here crowned in 1633. James II arranged 
it for a Roman Catholic chapel, but in neither 
way would the stern Scotch Presbyterians be 
tempted to leave their chosen form of worship. 
The palace of Holyrood became the chief resi- 
dence of Mary on her return from France. On 
the first Sunday after her arrival which was the 
anniversary of the massacre of St. Bartholomew, 
preparations were made to have mass in the 
Royal Chapel. When this was known, the city 
was everywhere raised against the attempt, 
again to introduce the Catholic faith into Scot- 
land. It required the utmost effort on the part 
of some of the leading reformers to suppress 
the tumult. Among those who sternly resisted 
the attempted invasion upon the Scottish Creed 
was John Knox, who, in all his interviews with 
the Queen, showed that noble and manly cour- 
age which gained for him at his grave the eu- 
logium, " Here lies he who never feared the face 
of man." It was in this Palace that the stern 
Reformer, when summoned before the Queen 
for his bold preaching against the errors of her 



JOHN KNOX. 305 

reign and of the Papacy, so laid the truth home 
to her heart that she wept, and exclaimed, 
" Never was Prince handled as I am." Here, 
when she sent him forth to the ante-chamber 
where her ladies were in waiting, the earnest 
reformer began a religious admonition, of which 
these words are a sample. " O, fair ladies, how 
pleasing is this life of yours, if it would abide 
forever, and then that in the end you pass to 
Heaven with all this gay gear. But fie upon 
the Knave Death that will come whether we 
will or not, and when he has laid on his arrest, 
the foul worm will be busy with the flesh be it 
never so fair and tender ; and the silly soul, I 
fear, shall be so feeble that it can neither carry 
with it gold, garnishing, glistening pearl nor 
precious stones." Who could curb a spirit like 
that of Knox? Who can wonder that to this 
day Scotland feels the results of his earnest and 
manly piety and zeal ? Let us pass up from the 
Palace through the famous High street, present- 
ing scenes utterly in contrast to these once wit- 
nessed here. 

That old building with a projecting story and 
14* 



306 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

a stair-case winding up from the street, beneath 
which is a gin shop and a tobacconist's is the 
old home of John Knox, where he lived and died. 
Out of that window facing the Netherbow he 
used often to deliver his sermons to the crowd 
in the street. Over the door is the inscrip- 
tion in old ^English, " Love God above all and 
your neighbor as yourself." This house which, 
in the progress of improvement, was at one 
time devoted to destruction has been purchased 
by the Free Church and will henceforth remain 
a sacred relic of the reformer. Passing upward 
from this point we pause at the old Parliament 
House, now devoted to the judicial business of 
the nation. Upon the wall in the lower story 
hangs the original draft of the solemn League 
and Covenant into which Scotland entered 
against any invasion of her right to worship 
God according to the dictates of a conscience 
enlightened by His Word. Still beyond, there 
stands the venerable church of St. Giles, where 
Knox and his brethren preached the doctrine of 
the reformation. Here was the scene of the popu- 
lar outbreak against the efforts of Charles I, to 



ST. GILES 7 CHURCH. 807 

force the prelatic government and forms upon 
the Church of Scotland. It will be remembered 
that at the Reformation the Scotch Church as- 
sumed the Presbyterian order and discipline in 
harmony with the Continental Reformed Church- 
es. Under this change the Catholic Cathedrals 
fell into hands of the Presbyterians, where they 
have ever since remained, and many of the 
Priests of the Catholic Church entered into 
their forms and doctrines. When, however, 
James came to the throne of England with his 
favorite motto, " No Bishop, no King," efforts 
were made to bring Scotland under the Prelatic 
form of Church order. The terrible massacres 
accomplished by the brutal Claverhouse and his 
ruffians were part of this mistaken attempt. When 
it was at one time regarded as certain that Scot- 
land must yield and the Presbyterian govern- 
ment be destroyed, a Priest was appointed to 
preach in St. Giles' and read the new Liturgy 
prepared by Bishop Laud. As he was begin- 
ning his unwelcome and intrusive services, Jenny 
Geddes, who could bear it no longer, arose and 
taking up the stool on which she was sitting 



308 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

threw it at the Priest's head, exclaiming, " Will 
you say mass in my lug V This was the signal 
for revolt which was followed by a renewal of 
the solemn League and Covenant, and ended in 
the entire conviction that England could never 
dragoon a Scotchman into worshipping God in 
any other way than that which his conscience 
would approve. In this Church I heard a ser- 
mon before the Lord High Commissioner of the 
Queen at the meeting of the General Assembly. 
The Earl, who is a member, and I believe an 
Elder of the Kirk of Scotland, came up from 
Holyrood in royal state and entered the throne 
pew with his officers and pages, while the Coun- 
cil, Judge Provost, &c, sat around the gallery 
in their robes of office and white wigs, surround- 
ed by the officers of the Assembly in full dress. 
The Free Church whose exodus from the Estab- 
lished Church presented some noble evidences 
of earnest and self-denying attachment to prin- 
ciple, holds its meetings of assembly in a new 
and commodious building, nearly opposite the 
assembly Hall of the old Kirk. Passing still 
upward we reach the Castle, overlooking the city 



THE CASTLE. 309 

and occupying the summit of the hill. Its po- 
sition is one of exceeding strength, three of its 
sides being precipitous and rising to an elevation 
of 393 feet. Here in 1093 died Margaret the 
Saxon Queen. Her chapel still stands in per- 
fect preservation. Yonder, near that building, 
on an angle of the wall is a small lookout where 
Mary used to take her work and sit for hours in 
sight of that splendid scene that opened before 
her on every hand. In a chamber of the Castle 
her son first saw the light, and eight days after 
was let down that fearful precipice in a basket 
and carried to Stirling, where he was baptized 
by John Knox. Here too is the Ancient Rega- 
lia of Scotland, the Crown, the Sceptre and the 
Sword. Retracing our steps and recrossing the 
portcullis and esplanade, we turn by the way of 
High Street to a bridge which crosses the deep 
valley known as Cow Gate. 

Passing down the grass market to an open 
square, we pause at the spot where the Coven- 
anters were hung for their adherance to the 
principles of the Church of Scotland. Ascend- 
ing from this point we enter the old churchyard 



310 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

of Gray Friars. Here trie solemn League and 
Covenant was signed, and yonder monument 
marks the graves and honors the memory of the 
Covenanters who fell victims to prelatic power 
and intolerance. Retracing our steps we cross 
High Street, and standing for a moment on the 
bridge, which connects it with the new Town, 
look down upon the scene beneath and around 
us. There at the entrance of this valley is the 
Station of the North British Eailway. Between 
this and the next bridge is the market, and 
beyond that the beautiful terraces of the Prin- 
ces' gardens. Behind us rise the tall and an- 
tique houses of the old Town, above which we 
see the spires of the Free Church and the 
Assembly Hall of the Kirk of Scotland, and the 
venerable tower of St. Giles. Before us lies 
Calton Hill with its monuments and the modern 
and beautiful structures of the new city. Enter- 
ing Princes street we have a fine view of ancient 
Edinburgh from Holyrood to the Castle. One 
side of this street only is built up, the other 
opening to the beautiful gardens which occupy 
the place of the old loch. Here stand the 



Arthur's seat. 311 

superb monument of Sir Walter Scott, and the 
National Gallery, a beautiful building of the 
Ionic order, built as a school of design, and for 
the exhibition of works of art. 

Passing northward, we come into a broad and 
magnificent avenue filled with tasteful buildings 
squares, fountains, and statues. Beyond this 
we descend again toward a romantic valley in 
which stands a fountain known as St. Bernard's 
Well, and through which flows a small stream 
called the Water of Leith. If now we enter a 
carriage and turn eastward, passing across to 
High street, and then down toward Holyrood, 
through the lower suburbs of the town, we soon 
emerge into the country, and whirling along the 
Queen's drive look up toward Arthur's seat 
and Salisbury Craigs, and ascending that beauti- 
ful eminence obtain a magnificent view of hill 
and valley, and sea, and city, and hamlet, which 
make up the scenery of Edinburgh. Yonder 
are the ruins of Craigmiller Castle, where the 
Earl of Mar was imprisoned, and where Queen 
Mary often made her home. At our feet lies a 
romantic loch, and as we pass onward we find 



312 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

another beautiful sheet of water wholly em 
bosomed in hills. Turning northward we see 
the Frith of Forth, with Leith and Granton, and 
the old fishing village of New Haven, whose 
women, in their quaint dresses, form one of the 
curiosities of the Edinburgh markets. Yonder by 
that pile of stones (Mushet's cairn) which we are 
passing, EffieDeans, the heroine of the " Heart of 
Midlothian," used to meet the ruffian Robertson. 
That low ruin to the left is St. Anthony's Chap- 
el, and still beyond, as we approach the town 
from the circuit of the Queen's drive, is the cot- 
tage of the old Laird of Dumbidykes and the 
home of Jeanie Deans, from whose garden we 
pause to pluck a flower, as a souvenir of the 
place. 

But time would fail to speak of Edinburg as 
its intense interest demands. There is the Uni- 
versity, where some of the noblest minds of 
Scotland have labored. Here splendid hospi- 
tals rise as monuments of the wealth and benev- 
olence of former citizens. At every turn some 
object meets the eye which is connected with 
thrilling memories of the past. 



A SABBATH IN EDINBURGH. 313 

In this city, as the heart of Scotland, was the 
great question of religious freedom decided. It 
was Knox, and Hamilton, and the noble sons 
of Scotland, who showed to England and the 
world that no power could bind the conscience, 
or enslave a people whom the truth had made 
free. And Scotland, England, and America 
are feeling to-day the blessed results of that 
great battle which was there fought, in which 
intolerance and bigotry were made to yield to 
men who loved and valued the liberty of the 
gospel. Before leaving Edinburg, I cannot 
avoid an allusion to her preachers. Would to 
God our whole Church was filled with such 
men as I heard at St. Giles', at the hall of the 
Free Kirk, and at the church of Dr. Guthrie. 
Their preaching was not flash and glitter, and 
wild attempts to produce a sensation at all haz- 
ards, but earnest, pungent, faithful exhibitions 
of the gospel. And crowds listened to them, 
with serious and fixed attention. A Sabbath 
in Edinburg affords a strange contrast to that 
on the continent. All business is suspended ; 
its streets are quiet as the country, and on every 



314 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

hand, as the church bells are ringing, may be 
seen throngs of worshippers with their Bibles in 
their hands, making their way to the house of 
God. The contrasts of virtue and vice are start- 
ling here, and appear more appalling, because 
seen in a land where virtue and order and piety 
predominate. It is natural that they who are 
vicious in such a community should surpass 
those who sink into crime under circumstances 
less favorable to good morals. But we must 
hasten to finish our view of Scotland. Taking 
the cars for the north, an hour's ride brings us 
to Stirling. Leaving the train, and turning up 
the rough and steep streets which lead to the 
castle, we are rewarded with one of the noblest 
views in Scotland. On the castle grounds, a 
fine company of Scotch Highlanders are under- 
going their morning drill, to the shrill music 
of the bagpipes. As we approach the old pal- 
ace, we pass under the window from which the 
Earl of Douglass was thrown, after his assassi- 
nation by James II. In yonder armory stands 
the pulpit of John Knox, and here he baptized 



STIRLING CASTLE. 315 

the infant son of Mary. Ascending the walls 
of the castle, we look out upon a scene of 
almost unparallelled beauty and interest. 

To the west rise the noble Highlands of Ben- 
Lomond, Benvenue, and Benledi. To the east 
wind the lovely waters of the Frith of Forth, 
bordered by fertile fields and meadows, and 
beneath us sinks away from our feet the stu- 
pendous precipice upon which the castle stands. 
Casting our eye southward, we see the valley 
and the green hillock where tournaments were 
often held, and beyond this, about two miles, 
is the illustrious battle-ground of Bannockburn, 
where Robert Bruce, with 30,000 men, met 
and overcame Edward II with 100,000 soldiers. 
But we cannot pause amid these recollections. 
Here around this ancient church, lingers many 
a glorious memory of Scotland's heroes. That 
noble statue is of John Knox, and that is the 
monument of Melville, And here is one on 
which stands an angel with a scroll, on which is 
inscribed Isaiah 40: 27—30; and then is added 
"Margaret, Virgin-martyr of the ocean-wave, 
with her like-minded sister Agnes. Scotia's 



316 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

daughters, earnest scan the page and prize the 
flower of grace blood bought for you. — Psalm 
9: 19." On the reverse is "Margaret Wilson, 
of Slenvernock." This is the touching memo- 
rial of a young Christian, who died a martyr to 
her faith, and a victim of prelatic arrogance and 
bigotry in the time of James II and Claver- 
house. For her simple adherence to the Pres- 
byterian Church, she was tied to a stake at low 
water-mark, and overwhelmed by the returning 
tide. 

Passing away from these scenes and associa- 
tions, we resume our seats in the cars for Cal- 
lander and the Trossachs, following the route 
which Scott has immortalized in his beautiful 
poem of the Lady of Lake. At Callander we 
take seats in an open stage, and are soon in the 
midst of the most romantic scenery. In the 
northwest rises the majestic head of Benledi. 
On our left the river Leith winds through a 
lovely valley, bordered by the woodland slope 
of the hills that rise on either hand. 

Skirting the border of the beautiful river 
Venachar, we reach Coilantogle Ford, to which 



THE TROSACHS. 317 

spot Roderick Dhu conducted Fitz James, and 
where, having fulfilled his promise, he exclaimed, 

" See! here all vantageless I stand, 
Arm'd like thyself with single brand, 
For this is Coilantogle's Ford, 
And thou must keep thee with thy sword." 

At this point Loch Venachar opens before us 
with its varied scenes of beauty. Passing on- 
ward, we leave on our right hand a collection 
of rude Highland huts, the first stage of the 
bearer of the fiery Cross of his Clan, the blazing 
symbol of war and death. 

" Duncraggan's huts appear at last, 
And peep like moss-grown rocks half seen, 
Half hidden in the copse so green." 

Still beyond, is the Brig of Turk, and then the 
lovely Loch Achray, and then as we hasten on- 
ward, we reach the Trosachs, where a scene of 
wondrous beauty and romance awaits us. They 
form a series of mountain gorges, made up of — 

" Crags, knolls, and mounds, confus'dly hurled, 
The fragments of an earlier world." 

The whole scene is one of interest and beauty — 

' ' So wondrous wild the whole might seem 
The scenery of a fairy dream." 



318 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

Here is the spot where the horse of the gallant 
Fitz James fell and died; and yonder opens 
before us the lovely Loch Katrine. A fairy- 
like steamer has returned to take us on board, 
and as we pass a wooded promontory the whole 
lake bursts upon our sight. Here the fair Ellen 
first saw the Knight of Snowdoun. There is 
her island — 

" Where for retreat in dangerous hour, 
Some chief had framed a rustic bower." 

And yonder rises Benvenue. And as we sail 
onward by cliff, and forest, and island, and hill, 
we find ourselves again re-peopling these scenes 
with the rude clans of the Highlands, and listen 
for the echoes of the song with which their 
leader was welcomed — 

" Hail to the chief who in triumph advances, 
Honored and blest be the evergreen pine, 
Long may the tree in his banner that glances, 
Flourish the shelter and grace of our line." 

Resting for the night at Stronachlachan 
Hotel, we rise early that we may ascend one 
of the lofty hills that overlook the lake, and 
pluck a bunch of heather from its summit. 



LOCH LOMOND. 319 

Resuming our route by stage, we pass through 
the wild and desolate region where Rob Roy 
had his haunts, and see the hut where Helen 
M'Gregor was born, and reaching at length the 
highest elevation on our route, descend by the 
side of a rushing torrent to the margin of the 
far-famed Loch Lomond. This lake is justly 
the pride of Scotland, with its beautiful islands, 
its bold headlands, and its lofty mountains. 
That vast mass of rocks, with an opening 
scarcely visible, is Rob Roy's cave; and yonder 
is a rude pulpit where the people often gather 
for worship in the open air. As we pass on, 
Ben Lomond rises 3,192 feet above the sea, and 
on every hand are wild and bare mountains 
and cliffs, whose deep shadows rest gently upon 
these now peaceful waters. 

At the foot of the lake the cars are awaiting 
our arrival, and, whirling us on towards the 
Clyde, we look up at Dunbarton Castle, where 
"Wallace was a prisoner, and whose command- 
ing elevation makes it one of the landmarks of 
the river ; and then, turning upwards towards 
Glasgow, we are, in an hour's time, landed in 



320 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

the very heart of the city. Glasgow, while it 
does not possess the historic interest or the 
wild romantic beauty of Edinburgh, is yet 
greatly its superior in commercial importance. 
It bears every mark of a prosperous and grow- 
ing city. The modern part of the town is 
beautifully laid out, and built up with substan- 
tial dwellings and churches. One of the noblest 
antiquities is the venerable Cathedral, now used 
for worship by a congregation of the Establish- 
ed Kirk. In one of its vaults is laid the scene 
of the mysterious meeting between Rob Roy 
and Osbaldistone. Its interior presents a fine 
specimen of Gothic architecture. Just across a 
ravine, through which flows a small stream, and 
over which is thrown the Bridge of Sighs, is 
the Necropolis, one of the finest cemeteries in 
Europe. Upon the summit is the noble monu- 
ment and statue of John Knox, and scattered 
over the sacred enclosure are the statues of 
many of Scotland's distinguished men. Every 
part of Glasgow shows life, and energy, and in- 
dustry. The old parts of the city, with their 
close and narrow streets, are densely populated, 



DUMFRIES, 321 

chiefly by the lower classes, among whom the 
prevailing fashion of both sexes seems to be 
bare feet. I think it safe to say, here can be 
seen more women withont shoes or stockings 
than in any other city in Europe. 

The scenery around Glasgow is beautiful, as, 
indeed, it would be difficult to find a point in 
Scotland where it is not. Taking the cars 
southward, and skirting Ayrshire, with its 
gentle hills and valleys, and the home of Burns 
— now made ever memorable by his genius and 
his song, — we pass on towards Dumfries, to 
spend a day in the midst of scenes and friends, 
which will long dwell in our hearts. One must 
go to Scotland to fully understand what is 
meant by a Scotch welcome. "We found it in 
Dumfries. A single note of introduction opened 
to us the warm greetings and kindness of Rev. 
Dr. Wallace and his family, with whom we 
spent the last day we were to be in Scotland, 
and introduced us to such scenes as Burns de- 
scribes in his " Cotter's Saturday Night :" 

" From which Auld Scotia's grandeurs rise." 

We were delighted with Dumfries, Every 
15 



822 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

way we turned, we met with some object of 
interest. Here Burns lived, and in yonder 
churchyard, just opposite the manse, is his 
tomb, with a beautiful bas-relief of the poet at 
the plough, from which the genius of Scotland 
is calling him away. Here, too, in that vener- 
able church-yard, are the tombs of many a 
martyr who died for the faith. Over yonder 
bridge, across the Nith, lies Maxweltown, on 
whose bonny braes lived Annie Lowrie, the 
heroine of a pleasant Scotch song. The Solway, 
which is at times fordable, and then navigable, 
and on whose beautiful banks we are now rid- 
ing, brings to our minds the young Lochinvar, 
and his words to the father of his fair lady : 

" I long loved your daughter — my suit you denied ; 
Love flows like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide." 

By the side of yonder lovely stream are the 
ruins of an ancient monastery, and the scene 
just there is one of picturesque beauty, that 
causes it to dwell distinctly in the memory. 

But we must bid farewell to these scenes and 
to Scotland. A short ride brings us to Gretna, 
where for years the famous blacksmith united 



THE LAND OF HEROES. 323 

the runaway couples from England, but whose 
occupation is gone since the new law regulating 
marriages. The train hurries onward, and we 
are borne away with sad hearts from the land 
of heroes and of genius, and the home of liberty 
and a pure faith. We look back upon that 
glorious country, and heartily exclaim, "God 
bless Scotland for all that she has been and all 
that she is." Who cannot love the land of 
Wallace and Bruce, of Knox and Melville and 
Moray, of Scott and Burns, of Chalmers and 
M'Cheyne? Who will not honor a nation 
whose sons have distinguished themselves in 
the strife for liberty and truth, in the walks of 
science and literature, in the State and Church? 
And when from her hills and valleys, her cities 
and hamlets, her children come to the shores of 
the Western Republic, they shall find a broth- 
er's welcome from, those who have learned to 
love and value that freedom whose battles were 
fought in Scotland amid the scenes of the Refor- 
mation, and whose institutions are best typified 
in the Church for whose order and faith that 



324 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

people contended with an earnestness that no- 
thing could successfully resist. 

But we must pass away from these scenes. 
Midnight brings us to Liverpool— to our old 
pleasant quarters at the Victoria Hotel. We 
spent a Sabbath there, and in our lack of infor- 
mation respecting churches, selected from the 
directory the Oldham Street Scotch Church, 
knowing that we should have sound doctrine, 
whether preached with eloquence or not. We 
were not disappointed, and listened to a faithful 
and earnest discourse from the pastor, Rev. Mr. 
Forfar, by whose invitation I occupied the pul- 
pit in the afternoon, and with whom I attended 
a children's meeting in the evening, and was 
greatly delighted with their familiarity with 
the Bible and Catechism — the two books on 
which a Scotch Presbyterian is brought up, and 
which have much to do with his character and 
steadfastness to the faith. 

Liverpool, while it is a city of great import- 
ance as a commercial centre, has but little to 
interest the traveller beyond its magnificent 



DUBLIN. 325 

docks and business arrangements. A little out 
of the city there is, however, a Zoological Gar- 
den, which, in the summer season, is a favorite 
resort. An hour's ride in the cars brings us to 
Chester, an ancient and venerable town, with a 
magnificent cathedral of great antiquity. Pass- 
ing westward, we are skirting the wild moun- 
tains of Wales, and looking out upon the ever 
changing beauties of that region. The cele- 
brated Menai Bridge, now, however, wholly 
outdone by the new Victoria Bridge at Mon- 
treal, we pass on this route, and then hurrying 
on by the sand-hills of Anglesea, we reach 
Holyhead, where large works are now in pro- 
gress for the improvement of the harbor. A 
rough passage of six hours, with a cabin full of 
passengers in every stage of sea-sickness, brings 
us to Kingstown, whence we are carried into 
Dublin by the cars, and are soon at a hotel 
spending our first night in Ireland. 

Dublin deserves all that is said of it as a fine 
city. Few streets in Europe can rival its far- 
famed Sackville street, with its noble monu- 
ments, its substantial houses, and its broad 



326 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

pavements and side-walks. Its university, its 
hospitals, its various churches, and public edi- 
fices, are finely built, and on every side there 
is an air of wealth, and taste, and comfort, 
which is exceedingly pleasant and attractive. 
We took a short but delightful excursion down 
into the county of Wicklow, filled with scenes 
of exquisite beauty, and although strangers, we 
found ourselves in pleasant converse with that 
model of his kind, an Irish gentleman. It was 
amid the scenes of this county that Moore wrote 
his beautiful song, " The Meeting of the Waters." 
Retracing our steps, we enter the cars for 
Cork, and are taken through the very coun- 
try from which are imported the largest class 
of the Irish population that reach our shores. 
Many a long and dreary moor is passed, with 
peat-bogs and Irish mud-cabins, with the very 
cows, and pigs, and chickens, and half-naked 
children, and bare-footed women, and men with 
pipes, and shillalahs, and brogans, that we find 
squatting upon the outskirts of our cities — at 
length finding their way to our polls and pub- 
lic ofiices. Emerging from this region, which 



CORK AND QUEENSTOWN. 327 

is not well calculated to impress one favorably 
with Ireland, we come out into scenes whose 
striking contrast doubtless adds to their beauty. 
Down in yonder lovely valley, with swelling 
hills beyond, stands the far-famed Blarney Cas- 
tle, in whose tower is the stone which imparts 
eloquence to the tongues of all who kiss it. 
Every new scene, as we now hasten onward, 
has some fresh chann, and makes us regret that 
we cannot linger amid so much that is pictur- 
esque and beautiful. 

But here is Cork, and these crowds that we 
see around, are unmistakably Irish. And so is 
the company on the steamer to Queenstown, 
even to the woman who sells us a pint of plums, 
with the very accent and look of the orange- 
women that offer us their commodities at the 
wharf and railroad stations at home. We are 
charmed with the exquisite beauty of the river 
down which we are sailing. The eye is en- 
gaged every moment with the opening glories 
of some new scene, with island, and headlands, 
villas of exquisite taste, and well-cultivated 
farms, and hills crowned with broad-spreading 



328 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

trees, and cottages which stand beneath them. 
At Queen stown we have a noble harbor shel- 
tered by two islands, and which is now yearly- 
becoming more and more important to the com- 
merce of Ireland. We were detained here a 
day beyond our time, and after looking over 
every part of the town, tried to get a sight of 
the country by means of an Irish jaunting-car, 
a one-horse vehicle, the very reverse of an om- 
nibus, placing the passengers back to back, 
with their feet over the wheels. We would 
advise nervous, timid, and sulky persons to keep 
out of such a conveyance. As to the first of 
these, there is every apparent probability that 
as the driver spins round a corner at full speed, 
the natural law of centrifugal motion will send 
the luckless passengers on to the side-walk or 
down the hill, while as to the latter class, a 
jaunting-car is utterly and hopelessly inconsis- 
tent with all gravity, and a sour- vinegar- faced 
individual would seem as little at home in such 
a conveyance as a tragic actor in a farce. You 
cannot ride in one without laughing, and when 
you see one loaded down with merry Irish girls 



A JAUNTING-CAR. 329 

full of fun and good humor, or a company of 
Irishmen all alive with wit, jollity, and merri- 
ment, you have a most respectful appreciation 
of an Irish jaunting-car. But the time has 
come for us to bid farewell to these scenes. 
"We regretted that we could not have seen more 
of Ireland. We saw enough to make us de- 
sirous to linger longer here. We wonder not 
that the Irishman loves his green isle. The 
poor, priest-ridden and ignorant people who 
come hither from that fair land, are not the 
class by whom we are to judge of its character. 
There is talent, and genius, and learning, and 
eloquence there, which command the respect of 
the world. May God continue His own work 
amid that people, until the sources of error and 
degradation shall be dried, and Ireland redeem- 
ed and regenerated, take her proper place in 
the scale of truth, and science, and liberty, 
and religion. But the gun of the steamer is 
echoing over the waters — the signal for our de- 
parture. We step on board a small tug-boat, 
and are soon set off upon the good ship Kanga- 
roo, Captain Jeffray. A few hours, and we 
15* 



.330 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

have passed by the beautiful aud romantic coast 
of Ireland, with its cliffs, its deep caverns, its 
venerable ruins of castles and towers, and are 
rocking upon the swelling waters of the open sea, 
and the burden of our song is " Home Again." 

It is but an act of common justice, as well as 
a most pleasing duty, to speak of the line of 

$ steamers in which we both went and returned. 
While the rates of fare are less by nearly one- 
half than those charged in the other lines to 
Europe, the accommodations are fully equal to 
theirs, and Captains Petrie and Jeffray, with 

b their officers, are noble specimens both of sailors 
and gentlemen, and know well how to make 
their passengers comfortable and happy. We 
found on the Kangaroo a large company, with 
the usual variety of characters met with on a 
steamer. Among them were my young friend 

t, Mr^Prime, from whom I had parted at Lake 
Luzerne on his way over the Alps, and the Irish 
delegation, Drs. Edgar, Dill, and Wilson, who, 
after a successful visit to our country, have re- 
turned home in the Edinburgh, to which vessel 
Captain Jeffray had been transferred. 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 331 

Our passage homeward was the entire reverse 
of the outward bound. Head-winds, heavy- 
seas, severe gales, close-reefed top-sails, storm 
stay-sails, and such like nautical phrases, de- 
scriptive of rough weather, found their way 
almost daily into the log-book. I had always 
wished to see a storm on the Atlantic, and I 
confess when I got into it, I heartily wished 
myself out of it. 

It is a wild and awful scene, a stupendous 
evidence of the majesty and power of Him who 
holds the waters in the hollow of His hand. 
Gradually, as the wind freshens and hauls 
around into the stormy quarters, the ship is put 
in trim for the battle of the elements. High 
up upon the masts, and hanging out upon the 
spars that are already tracing long segments of 
circles against the sky, the hardy sailors are 
engaged in reefing the sails, and making all 
close and tight. As the wind increases, the 
spars are swung round toward it to offer as 
little resistance as possible to its awful power. 
And now you can do nothing but watch and 
wait for the issue. Steadily and firmly the 



332 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

great heart of this iron monster keeps up its 
pulsations, and the ship without a sail nobly 
breasts the foaming billows. As the storm ad- 
vances, the ocean rises under its fury, until the 
waves and the gale are at their height. As the 
eye glances across this wild and fearful waste of 
waters, it looks like some Alpine scene, when 
the wind catches up the spray, like drifting 
snow, and bears it across the sea and drives it 
over the ship, and sends it flying in thick scuds 
above the spars of the vessel. 

And then as you stand and watch the mo- 
tions of the ship, it seems as if she were instinct 
with life, and struggling like a living being 
amid that war of elements. As for a moment 
she rises upon the top of a wave, she seems to 
pause and tremble as she looks towards that 
chasm into which she is to descend, and where 
gradually she settles down, and as you look 
above you at the dark waves which surround 
you like a vast wall, you are so subdued and 
attracted by the sublimity and grandeur of the 
scene, as to lose all sense of fear in emotions of 
wonder and admiration. But let us go below. 



A STORM AT SEA. 333 

You pass in the companion-way a group of mis- 
erable-looking objects, whose faces indicate the 
last and most hopeless stages of sea-sickness. 
Waiters are busy supplying the demand for 
brandy, oat-meal gruel, lemons, and all the vari- 
ous prescriptions for the invalids. Unhappy 
individuals who look as if their last friend had 
gone, are staggering to the side of the ship for 
purposes too well known to need a description. 
Occasionally, as the vessel reels and pitches, 
the crowd are thrown promiscuously together, 
and they are only able to recover themselves, 
when a second lurch tumbles them as uncere- 
moniously into another pile of extemporaneous 
acrobats. 

In the cabin things are no better. A ghastly 
and miserable group are trying the same hope- 
less experiment of keeping and sitting quiet. 
Waiters are busy preparing the tables for din- 
ner. Sometimes, as a sea breaks over the ves- 
sel, there is a crash of falling crockery and a 
rush of water through the sky-lights and com- 
panion-way, and a momentary pause as the ship 
quivers and shakes, and then hurries on again in 



334 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

her noble struggle with the winds and waves. At 
length the eight bells strike, and then the stew- 
ard's bell sends its summons for dinner. With 
many the steam and odor are enough. Others 
stagger their way to the table. It requires no 
little skill to adjust matters there to any degree 
of comfort and safety. Soup plates are tilted 
up on the edges of the guards and then held 
carefully with the left hand. Meats and gravies 
are watched with a jealous eye, and unless held 
in their place by main strength, when an un- 
lucky lurch of the ship happens, will be de- 
posited in the lap of some luckless passenger, 
and, even with the utmost diligence, the whole 
service of the table often indicates an evident 
inclination to jump over on to the floor. A 
hungry man in a storm at sea is, on the whole, 
a pleasant specimen of one in the pursuit of a 
dinner under difficulties. But the hour for 
sleep comes, and we must enter those close and 
restricted apartments called state-rooms. You 
may imagine what evolutions are essential to 
reach your berth, especially if it happens to be 
on the windward side of the ship. You attempt 






A NIGHT IN A STORM. 335 

to draw off a boot; just as it has started you 
are compelled to dance a reel across the room, 
and finish by pitching into your neighbor's berth 
head first. Recovering yourself, and waiting 
until the ship is on an even keel, you finish your 
boot and attempt your coat. Just as your arms 
are pinioned by your sleeves behind you, an- 
other lurch breaks open your door, tears away 
your trunks and carpet-bags, and sends you 
spinning against the side of the room. When 
at length, bruised and breathless, you are ready 
to enter your berth, you have to climb up the 
sides of a movable precipice, and, waiting for a 
favorable moment to reach your bed, spring 
into your place of rest. During this operation, 
you will probably raise several new phrenological 
developments upon your head, and nearly dislo- 
cate a shoulder, besides receiving several minor 
contusions, which, anywhere but on ship-board, 
would need the aid of a surgeon. But if you 
think your troubles are now over, you are sorely 
mistaken. You find a most frightful inclination 
of your body to follow the tendencies of gravi- 
tation, and must call the steward to box you in 



336 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

with, a lee-board, against which you are rolling 
with every lurch of the ship. And then as the 
vessel heaves and pitches, you are standing 
alternately on your heels and your head, and 
rolling like an infant in its cradle, from the 
right to the left, from your back to your face. 
Thus the night is passed, and the morning 
brings a renewal of your last evening's troubles, 
ten times more aggravated, especially if you feel 
obliged to go through the operation of shaving. 
With such an experience, your first wonder will 
be how any sane man, who has a cottage any- 
where on land, and enough to feed and clothe 
him, can ever choose the sea for his home. And 
your second reflection will be, that if any class 
of men deserve the respect and sympathy and 
prayers of the world, it is the hardy sons of the 
sea. 

But pleasant weather comes, and the sick 
ones crawl out upon deck, and the perils and 
discomforts of the storm are forgotten in the 
invigorating air and the splendid scenes of the 
ocean. All kinds of amusements are tried. A 
few wits publish a paper; others, who are mu- 



SEA AMUSEMENTS. 337 

sically inclined, entertain a group upon the 
deck, or in the cabin, with all kinds of songs, 
from " A Life on the Ocean Wave," to " Widow 
Machree," or " Vilikins and his Dinah." Others, 
walk the deck or play at shuffle-board, or check- 
ers, and fill up the intervals of time with eat- 
ing, drinking, and sleeping. Our evenings are 
varied by concerts and lectures, in which last 
Dr. Edgar and his brethren, and the Rev. Mr. 
Scott, of the Episcopal Mission to Africa, enter- 
tained our company with much valuable infor- 
mation. The monotony of our voyage was 
somewhat varied by a visit to Halifax, where 
we had put in to replenish our coals, which had 
nearly been exhausted by our protracted pas- 
sage. 

On the Sabbath, religious services were held — 
the Captain reading the Episcopal liturgy, and 
one of the clergymen preaching a sermon. We 
shall not soon forget the pleasant scenes of the 
three Sabbaths we spent on our voyage home- 
ward — the serious attention which was bestow- 
ed upon the religious exercises, and the delight- 
ful meetings for prayer, in which so many 



338 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

united, and by which they were gladdened and 
refreshed. 

The last Sabbath evening was one of special 
interest. It was spent in narrating and lis- 
tening to the history of the revivals in America 
and Ireland, and although the storm without 
was beating fiercely upon us, in that cabin a 
cheerful and happy group of Christians were 
committing themselves and all they held dear, 
to God — and speaking and hearing of all His 
mighty acts of grace and love. The next day 
brought us in sight of home, and never did it 
appear so lovely as when we steamed up the 
harbor of New York after an absence of four 
months and a-half, and never did we feel more 
loudly called upon for devout gratitude to God 
than when we saw upon the shore a part of our 
own family, and heard, ere yet we reached the 
land, that parents and children, the loved ones 
from whom we had been separated, and after 
whom had gone forth many a longing wish and 
earnest prayer, were safe and well. None but 
he who has thus been separated from all that 
make up for him the precious name of home; 






HOME AGAIN. 339 

who has dreamed of the absent amid ocean 
storms, and in foreign lands ; who has some- 
times feared that sickness or death might, per- 
adventure, be bnsy with their fearful work 
around his fireside, and who has approached 
the shores of his native country with a beating 
and anxious heart, can tell the joy and grati- 
tude which we felt as we folded to our hearts 
our children, and knew that all was well. 

I have thus endeavored to reproduce the 
scenes through which it has been my privilege 
to pass. If I have afforded profit or pleasure 
to any ; if any have been led to love and value 
America the more, and to feel, as 'I do, that it 
is the best and dearest land on which the sun 
shines; if I have induced any to think more 
kindly, and with a warmer sympathy for the 
sailor ; if I have been the means of adding in 
any mind to its stores of knowledge, or have in 
the least degree promoted the interest and 
prosperity of this Church to which, with God's 
aid, my constant and earnest efforts shall be 
given, my labor has not been in vain. Let me 
but express the hope that, by God's grace, all 



340 IMPRESSIONS ABROAD. 

who now hear me may have Christ for their 
pilot over this great ocean of life, until they 
shall find rest in that haven where there are no 
more storms, and in that land where there shall 
be no more sea. 



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